When Your Feet Don't Touch The Ground
by LobbyLane
Summary: Roger Debris never once felt out of place. But somehow lately something is missing. And he can't explain it to himself. But then, he helps a seemingly homeless boy in the streets and everything changes. Roger/Carmen ; The Producers (c) Mel Brooks
1. Something's coming

**A/N: While working on "True To Your Heart" I felt the whole Roger/Carmen part was getting way too complex to explain it in that one story, so I decided to cut that one part out of it and do a single story about it. It won't be as long, but I thought it was a nice little tale (Plus I really liked my idea of how the two of them met actually) :)**

 **So, hope you'll enjoy. First time I've written something that doesn't include Max and Leo. Don't worry though, I will return to them again :) I just needed to do this.**

 **The title was inspired by the "Finding Neverland" Cast Album I was hearing while writing this down.**

 **Let me know what you think...**

* * *

He watched the morning sun arising at the edge of the endless city as he opened the windows and took a deep breath of the air softly blowing in and carrying along the morning hustle from outside.

A perfect day. He felt it. Whenever a day started like that he knew it was going to be just great. Something to lighten up the boredom he was situated in lately. There was the smell of awesomeness in the air somehow as Roger looked down the skyline of the city. People were rushing by and the yellow cabs were passing the house every once in a while. He inhaled deeply. Something was gonna happen. It was there. He could sense it. And the pure thought of it made him smile from one ear to the other.

Then he carefully closed the windows again and prepared for whatever might cross his way today. He was ready.

Little did he know that this day would change his life forever.

Slowly he made his way downstairs for the usual morning routine. A nice cup of tea, the smell of fresh brioche coming from the kitchen and a random chat with his roommates. It was exactly what he loved; the very way it had been for years and he could hardly imagine something else could change that fact.

So, as Roger walked down the long light corridors of the huge townhouse he wondered what to do afterwards. Sure, he had become quite popular as a director and he couldn't complain about work at all. On the contrary, it was what he loved and the theater was a place were dreams came true. Nowhere else was he able to materialize more. But at the moment there was nothing to do. A new play was set next month and he had been convinced to take it as a chance to regenerate a bit. Some sort of vacation if you like. But if he was honest, it started to bore him. He'd been out a lot lately together with Brian and Scott and the others, but somehow that little creative spark was missing.

"You need to let go a little," Kevin told him, when he saw Roger's face as he sat down in the marble kitchen. "Having some time for yourself ain't that bad."

"I am not holding on to work," Roger jeered.

"Then why the long face?" he grinned.

"He's depressed," Shirley said.

"He is bored," Brian cheered over her shoulder. "That's all. Routine is something he hates."

"I am not," Roger grabbed the newspaper which lay nearby and tried to avoid their eyes as good as possible.

"Then why don't you join us tonight?" Kevin asked again. "We'll be out partying a bit. Checking out the cuties the city has to offer."

"Nah, I guess you should go alone," Roger simply replied.

He'd been out too many times in the last time and it started to bore him immensely. But there was no way he could admit it; more out of fear to insult any of them. After all they only meant well.

He was sure something must follow, but his roommates remained silent. And that silence lasted seemingly forever. After a while he even felt watched and slowly lowered his papers again, raising one eyebrow. All four of them stood around him with folded arms, watching him closely. Roger's head turned slowly from one to the other and back.

"Alright," he said after a moment and carefully folded his papers again, putting them away. "What is it?"

"We're kinda worrying about you," Brian answered sincerely, whereas the others just nodded.

"No need to worry...I," Roger started, but was interrupted quickly.

"You need to get out of this," Scott said. "You need to let go. Whatever this phase is or may become it's not good. What you really need is something else than work."

"And that's what?" Roger asked amused. "Strolling from one Pub to the next with you to find the same people each time? To look into the same old faces? The same conversations and the same useless attempts to get hooked?"

"See? I told you he was bored," Kevin grinned at Shirley, who started to giggle slightly.

"You need someone who changes that same old world for you," she turned her head to the older man then.

"I am perfectly happy the way it is. Thank you!" Roger answered.

"Who are you trying to fool?" Scott leaned over to him and smiled. "Heaven's Rog! The last time you've had something close to a real relationship was when that old drag lived here for two weeks. You can't really call that _'perfectly happy'_ in any way."

"I'm fine, believe me," Roger said and got up. "Would you please stop that now?"

"Are you getting angry?" Shirley smiled mischievously. "Tells me we're on the right track."

"Enough already," Roger went to the door, taking large steps.

He'd already touched the doorknob when he heard Kevin's voice behind him again.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Roger please, we didn't mean to insult you or anything."

"I know," Roger shouted back, raising his hand. But only seconds later he noticed this might have been a little much. So he turned slightly and looked from one to the other. They were shocked, he could tell. And after all they only meant to help.

Roger sighed.

"I am not angry," he said a lot softer now and even forced himself into a slight smile. "I just... I really don't need any more parties or matchmaking's right now. I'm sorry. I just need a little time for myself. That's all."

His four roommates nodded shortly. His signal to leave. He turned again and closed the door carefully behind himself.

He couldn't explain himself why he acted like that. He'd always enjoyed being around people, but lately it felt like being the same every day. He was certain this would change again. And he was determined they were wrong. He didn't need anyone right now. All he needed was something to do with his unexpected time. Something fresh. Something new.

Carefully, he put on his coat and then stepped outside the huge front door to face the world; for once alone. He breathed in the warm morning air and closed his eyes for a moment to listen to the familiar sounds of the noisy city. Usually he wouldn't walk around. He never did really, but he felt this was exactly what he needed right now to get his head clean again.

….

His road led him along the endless narrow streets and past the million people always rushing by. He didn't know any of them, nor did he really care. Yet it was kind of fun to imagine why they were out there and where they were heading to this morning. Roger remembered having played that game a lot when he was a child and somehow it crossed his mind again. And suddenly that old smile was back in his face. The streets had something magical about them. It was almost as though he was entering a new world, even though he knew most of it his whole life. But that was exactly what he loved about New York that much. Everything constantly changed and yet stayed exactly the way it had always been.

He looked up to the sky. The sun was reflecting in the windows of some skyscrapers in the distance and sparkled almost like little stars during the young day.

And once more he had to laugh. They were wrong. How on earth was he supposed to do something like that; to enjoy his own little discoveries when there was someone by his side? Relationships were distracting people from what really mattered. He'd learned that a long time ago. And even though sharing the nights with someone special from time to time was something he'd never give up, he could hardly imagine having some millstone around his neck all the time. No, it was perfectly alright the way it was. He even felt the tension which had been there only half an hour before vanish and his old cheery self was slowly finding his way back.

Roger stretched once and continued his way cheerfully. He wondered why he didn't do it more often? Somehow he'd never been the person to walk around a lot but it appeared to be a cure right now.

He listened to the conversations of two women nearby and chuckled. You sure learned a lot about people by just being silent and listen. And they didn't mind in the least. They didn't even notice. Anonymity was just another big advantage out here. People in theater knew him. And people close to the theater recognized him, but only two streets apart from all that dazzle no one knew. And more importantly no one cared. This was New York. The way it has always been.

He kept on walking and enjoying his freedom. Until someone jostled him and made him stumble.

Quickly he turned his head only to find a scared looking gray boy in front of him. He didn't look less surprised than Roger.

"I-I am sorry," he mumbled, but didn't look at him. "Didn't see you. I hope you're alright."

For a moment Roger thought about screaming at him to better open his eyes, but then he noticed the boy stepping back a few inches just as though he was expecting him to go berserk.

"Nothing happened," he replied then and stroked a little dirt off his coat.

"Sorry," the boy repeated and marched on.

Well, hardly marched. He stumbled more; just as though he had troubles walking. Roger noticed in surprise. He was still stroking his coat while watching him when he took an incidental look at his hand letting go of the fine fabric. His eyes widened. Something stuck to his fingers. Was that blood? It wasn't his, he was certain of that. He didn't even fall. So, his head shot in the air again and his eyes were scanning the street.

That boy had been injured. Clearly. He simply must have. This was his blood. Roger almost smacked himself for not noticing it immediately. That was why he walked so strangely.

He looked around. One face after the other passed him and he tried desperately to find that boy in the crowd. He couldn't be far after all. Not in that condition.

And indeed: There he was! Making a turn into yet another alley. He was slow and holding his right arm but somehow still fast enough to escape Roger's sight. So, without further thinking the older man ran after him. Looking back he didn't even know what had hit him that moment. But if he really was injured, he needed help. And he didn't seem to be dangerous. At least not from that first impression Roger had gotten. And even though he probably had ignored him under normal circumstances, Roger was no one not to help.

He reaches the corner of that alley in seemingly no time and within a second his eyes spotted him.

The boy leaned against the wall of a building with his healthy shoulder not only a few feet away from him. His head was bowed though. He seemed exhausted.

"Hey," Roger addressed him as he quickly approached him. "Wait!"

He reached out for him, but as soon as the young man got his words he whirled around fast and backed away. His feet didn't seem to carry him anymore though and he fell to the wall with his back again. His eyes were teared wide open and he looked at Roger scared.

"You get away from me!" he yelled and held his obviously healthy arm in front of himself to prevent Roger to touch him in any way.

"Hey, calm down," Roger said calmly and stopped. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Don't come closer," the boy yelled. "I-I'm warning you!"

"And you're gonna do what?" Roger said calmly. "You're hardly able to walk at all."

This truth seemed to strike the boy too that very moment. His hand slowly sank and the tension in his body seemed to vanish a little. He kept staring at Roger in fear though. It didn't take him long to steady himself on his shaking feet and he stepped back even more, meaning to leave.

"Leave me alone," he said and gave it his best attempt to sound unimpressed by the calm voice of that stranger in front of him.

He turned and took two more steps, when his feet gave in and he sank to him knees, moaning deeply and once more holding his whole body.

Roger rushed by his side and helped him sitting up. He softly leaned him against his arm and tried to hold his head up so the young man could breathe easier.

"Easy there," he said, but didn't get any response. His counterpart had his eyes closed in pain and for the first time Roger noticed how much he shivered. He took a closer look now that he had him that close to himself for once. There were bruises all over him and he wore the swollen marks around his eyes like a trophy. His head was bleeding as was his left arm which hang loosely down his grip. And his chest didn't seem to be okay either. His shirt was also soaked in a red liquid and told Roger he must have had other injuries one couldn't make out at first sight. Probably his rips were broken.

Roger stared at his scratched face in shock. What happened to him? He didn't seem to be that old yet.

"You're injured," he whispered in shock. To his great misfortune the boy opened his eyes again hearing his words and struggled immediately to get out of his grip once more. But he wasn't strong enough and Roger didn't think about letting go of him right now.

"Listen to me," he tried to stay calm. "You need help. These are some serious injuries you got there and you need someone to look at them."

"Let go," the boy said in despair, trying to struggle out of his arms.

"Alright," Roger agreed. "I will. But only if you'll listen to what I wanna suggest to you!"

For once the boy turned his head in his direction and got a little calmer. Roger looked into that pair of brown eyes for the first time. No, there was nothing dangerous about that one. He couldn't explain why he thought about it that moment, but there was something about him that told him he could really trust his instincts right now.

So, the boy nodded once even though Roger could tell immediately he didn't trust him at all. He loosened his grip and it didn't take him more than a blink and that boy rolled over and vanished underneath his fingers. It must have been very painful. He could tell by looking in his face again. Luckily the young man didn't get far. He was tired and exhausted. His whole being told Roger so. He stopped only inches away and leaned his back to a nearby trashcan while he still sat on the cold gray ground. He stretched his head up and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Then, he opened his eyes slightly and looked at the older man from the corner of them.

"What do you want?" he asked defiantly, breathing heavily.

"What happened to you?" Roger asked slowly.

"None of your business," the boy replied, closing his eyes once more as he leaned his back to the trashcan too.

Roger waited a second. But when he was sure nothing was about to follow, he added:

"Alright. You don't wanna talk about it. I understand."

The boy didn't reply. He didn't even move and it looked like he was about to fall asleep from exhaustion any minute. Roger felt his stomach flip seeing it. The situation was about to become dangerous if he really passed out right here. Whatever happened to him, he would find out...later. But now, the first step was to get him away from here.

Roger didn't take his eyes away from that strange boy. A young slender man with short light brown hair. He didn't look like someone living in the streets but yet everything indicated it. He wore a long gray coat and a gray hooded shirt with dark jeans. Homeless people usually didn't wear that kind of stuff. But somehow he looked like having spent some time out here; let alone these horrific injuries all over his body that kept on bleeding.

Roger looked around to the streets once more and then focused on the boy once more. He was getting nervous somehow. And he noticed his hands getting sweaty as well. Rubbing over his face once, he thought: "I must be out of my mind doing this."

"Listen, I can help you," he started silently.

"How so?" the boy replied with his eyes closed still.

"You could come with me," Roger said, not believing his own words. "I will have someone look at your injuries. You could recover and warm up."

The boy jeered slightly.

"Don't be silly," he answered, looking at Roger again weakly. "I don't even know you. Why should I do that?"

"So what's your suggestion then?" he asked. "I'll leave you here and let you die?"

"None of your concern what happens to me," the boy replied.

"Oh no, you're wrong," Roger said, causing the boy to open his eyes a little more. "Now I know you. At least a little. It is my concern now. And I won't leave you out here all alone looking like that."

And even though he was weak and his breath was heavy and looked as though it tortured him enormously just to inhale again, he knew the boy listened now.

"I promise I'm not gonna hurt you," Roger continued. "You can leave as soon as you feel better. But please, don't let me beg. I promise I will follow you until you slowly faint and I will carry you personally to a doctor if you continue to act that stubborn. Whereas if you come with me you'll have a roof and a bed and a nice place to cure this."

The boy watched him and somehow Roger swore something about his looks changed. A million questions were written in it and his eyes scanned him perfectly just as though he tried to figure out whether he meant it or not.

"I promise!" Roger repeated.

"Why should I believe you?" the boy asked weakly, but a lot of the defiance in his voice was gone.

Roger on the other hand stepped a little closer and started to smile compassionately. He stretched out his hand slowly.

"I'm Roger," he said and felt curiously touched when the young man hesitantly started to shake his hand after a moment. He didn't take his eyes away from him though and he didn't reply.

"I see," Roger laughed shortly. "No name either, hm?"

He got up from the ground and slowly lend his arm to the boy to get up. It took him a moment to really grab it though, but then he slowly pulled himself up until he stood on his shaking feet again, holding his arm once more. Roger did his very best to steady him. It became clear though he wouldn't even make another two steps. He stumbled next to the taller man and was about to fall again. This was no use. So, without thinking about it, Roger reached out to him once more.

"Hold on," he said and within the beat of a heart he had him lifted up in his arms. The boy looked a little shocked, but held on to him as good as possible.

"I can leave again as soon as someone looked at me?" he asked a little uncertain.

"As soon as you wish," Roger replied.

And when he was certain the boy was satisfied with that answer he started to make his way out of that alley. The boy looked at the streets again a little scared, but soon relaxed a little in his arms.

Roger didn't mind the looks of the people he passed. All he had in mind was to get home a quick as possible. He called for a cab – something that turned out to be rather difficult when both of his hands were kind of occupied - and placed himself and that boy carefully insight the moment it held in front of him. He was still carrying him on his lap as he told the driver where to go. And then all he did was looking outside; watching the buildings and trees rushing by the windows. He didn't care for the people outside anymore. Nor the weather or anything else that made him feel alive this morning. All he wanted was to help that stranger in his arms.

This was crazy. He kept telling himself that over and over again. He didn't even know him. A homeless with no name and apparently a very serious past. He should have ignored him. He should have simply followed his way down the streets not caring about him at all. He even could imagine the blame of his roommates bringing a perfect stranger to their house. Someone they knew nothing about. He could rob them, threaten them; hell, even murder them. Nobody knew. But then again, it was highly unlikely he was about to do that.

Roger looked down at the boy once more. To his surprise he had his restless head leaned against his chest and was fallen asleep deeply. And for once he seemed very calm; just as though he felt safe for that one moment. He didn't appear as hectic and scared anymore. No, it was almost as though he had been waiting all his young life to finally find some security.

Roger felt touched somehow. In way he'd never experience before. He couldn't explain it.

He looked at him a little longer and felt his mouth lifting into a smile. No, he wouldn't do that. He didn't know why but he was sure about it. Something had led him to this boy.

So maybe this was the feeling he had had that very morning. Maybe, but only maybe, he had been meant to meet him...

 _~To be continued~_


	2. Darling

**A/N: Part two :) I am somehow really excited about this story and I hope I'll finsih it soon. I kinda love the "How did Carmen and Roger meet" theories and well, this is the first attempt by myself to explain what I think happened.**

 **Hope you'll enjoy.**

* * *

„Well, he'll survive it."

Roger silently closed the door to the room in which his unknown guest lay behind the doctor, who only shook his head in disbelief. His young guest had been struggling still when they'd arrived here, but hadn't been able to do a lot since Roger had had him still in his arms and his injuries must have weakened him a lot. He hadn't been at all as defiant as he'd been before. But who could blame him. Having second thoughts in a situation like the one they had unwillingly found themselves in had to be considered as normal after all. But luckily he'd let Roger call for a doctor and let him take a good look at him, just as they had agreed on back in the streets.

"Is he okay?" Roger asked a little timid.

"He's asleep now," the doctor nodded shortly keeping a straight face. "I've given him some sedatives so he won't move that much. It's kind of important he remains calm at least until his shoulder is cured properly. It's been completely dislocated. Unbelievable he was still able to move at all."

"What kind of injuries are these?" Roger asked once more. "A dislocated shoulder, the cuts, the bruises...I guess he's broken something too, right?"

"I'd hoped you could tell me," the other man looked up sincerely, but then nodded. "Two rips are broken, but it looked a lot worse than it was. But still he obviously got pretty mangled. The wound on his head worried me most to be honest. And he's lost a lot of blood. So, if you remember anything he might have told you, please spill your guts."

But Roger only shook his head in worriedly. "He told me nothing. Not a bit."

The doctor raised one eyebrow, just as though he wanted to point out he didn't believe him at all. But there was no signs whatsoever this DeBris having been involved into a fight or anything as well, so probably his story must be true.

"I guess if he really lived out there," he started again. "It's been some kind of street-fight or something like that. Maybe he was part of any gang or I don't know what else. Fact is, injuries like the ones your little foundling is wearing...well, let's say he cannot have caused them himself."

"Means someone else did it?"

The doctor shrugged. "Probably. But I can't say for sure. Maybe he fell or had had an accident. I can't say really. He needs to talk a little more to get a certainty about what happened, but as far as I see it you practically dragged him here, am I right?"

"Well," Roger started to blush and turned his eyes away. "He was alone and injured. You have no idea how vulnerable and weak he had looked. I couldn't just leave him there."

"I see," the other man looked down at the notes in his hand again. "Well, since neither you nor me know his name now... Am I correct that you're gonna pay for his treatment?"

"Yes, I will," Roger said and rubbed his head, looking worried to that closed door again.

Jeez, how was he going to explain that? He'd seen the faces of his roommates when he'd entered with that boy alright and knew perfectly well he had to face a longer talk anyway.

"You know what you are dealing with, right?" he heard the doctor's voice once more. "You could easily get into trouble letting some street-kid in. And apart from that, his treatment won't be cheap."

"I am fully aware of it," Roger snapped back. He quickly took the piece of paper he was handing him and signed it. Why did he feel angry? All the objections coming from that man were more than justified. And he indeed had not the slightest idea what he was engaging himself with right now.

He accompanied the doctor to the door and only when he had the door closed behind him as well, Roger dared to take a deep breath. This was gonna be tough. But he wouldn't take the blame in any way. All he wanted was to help that boy. Why? Hell, he didn't know. It had just felt right. And there had been that little subconscious voice inside of him literally screaming at him not to turn away. Yet, he didn't know about that either. It had been just a feeling. Something no person in the world would have been able to explain that very moment. And helping someone was never wrong now, was it?

Lost in his thoughts, Roger moved back into the huge kitchen of the town house. His arms were folded and he held his head down, thinking about all the things that doctor had said to him. But he was quickly ripped out of his own little world when the kitchen door flung shut noisily behind him and he lifted his head only to find his four roommates standing in a semicircle around him, looking at him reproachfully. Roger lifted his eyebrows and looked from one to the other. Their mimics didn't really change. It was then Roger knew perfectly well he'd lost. There was no need to pretend he didn't know what this was about. Of course they were mad. They had seen him carrying that stranger inside and calling a doctor in a hurry whilst none of them had been able to speak just one word with him.

"Jesus!" He flinched and held his hand to his chest, breathing fast.

Their stares were piercing him and as if choreographed they crossed their arms all at the same time, looking extremely pissed.

"Listen, I...," Roger started, but didn't even get any further. "I know what you're gonna say, but let me try to explain."

"Have you lost your mind, Rog?" Kevin asked as the first of them, looking incomprehensible all the same. "What the hell was that about?"

"I needed to hurry," Roger answered quickly. "I am sorry. I meant to talk to you later."

"Where is he now?" Brian asked before he could say any more. "Please tell me, that doc took him away."

Roger looked up at him with the eyes of a beaten dog.

"Oh no, Roger!" Brian rubbed over his face with his hands, before leaning back so only the table held him from falling backwards to the ground. "He is still here?"

"He's up in my room," Roger said a lot quieter now.

"How can you bring some stranger in here?" Scott continued and dared to speak out loud what everyone else was obviously thinking. "Have you seen his face? Where did you pick up a boy like that? Have you been gambling and he was the consolation gift?"

"I...I found him in the streets," Roger answered hesitantly. "But he..."

"You what?" the four of them asked simultaneously and their eyes grew even bigger.

"That's it. We're finished," Shirley proclaimed, waving her hands about. "They'll find out. As soon as this one opens his eyes he'll notice and we're screwed then. Mark my words."

"Or he'll rob us," Brian concluded.

"Or kill us while we sleep," Scott and Kevin looked at each other and immediately held their hands to their throats, clenching their teeth. "Ewwwww..."

"Don't exaggerate," Roger replied rolled his eyes, letting his hands sink. "What makes you think he'll finish us off? He can barely walk..."

"Until he gets better!"

"Maybe he won't tell on us," Roger tried to argue.

"And what if he will? What if someone finds out about this here?" Kevin interrupted him, looking at each of them and then back to Roger. He was blaming him.

"Yeah, you know how people are," Shirley agreed, nodding at Kevin. "It doesn't bother anyone as long as it stays in here. But with this boy talkin' about it..."

"Oh come on now!" Roger was getting annoyed, even though he knew perfectly well what could happen. "You don't even know if he'll say anything."

"Yes, but neither do you," Brian answered quickly.

Roger moaned and passed them to walk directly to one of the shelves in the room. He took a glass and poured himself a slug of whiskey. Quickly he swallowed it and rubbed his forehead.

Funny enough he'd been thinking about all that as well and it just wouldn't leave his mind since he'd arrived here with that boy. He knew it would mean trouble, but somehow he was convinced still that the stranger up there meant no harm to them. But it was just a feeling. How was he supposed to make them believe too?

"Roger, you must admit it's kind of audacious to bring him here without any clue what he's up to," Scott approached him carefully. "I mean what did he say to you?"

"Nothing," Roger replied without looking up. "He said absolutely nothing. Look, you've seen him, haven't you? He needed help."

"Then why.."

"Because...," Roger whirled around, knowing his voice sounded angry. "Because I am not like that. I couldn't ignore him after he bumped into me. If I'd just closed my eyes who knows what had happened to him. So don't tell me you would have walked past that."

The four of them just remained where they were and didn't reply anything. But their looks changed a little. Obviously they seemed to think about it. Roger sighed.

"Listen," he started anew. "I...I know this is risky. And I can completely understand you're feeling scared. I'm with you, okay! Actually, I am scared as hell. But let me talk to him first, will you? I am sure I can convince him to shut up. After all he won't stay long anyway."

"He won't?" Scott asked. "Why so?"

"Because the deal is he leaves soon as he feels better," Roger explained. "It's not like I didn't think about all that too. And I am not too keen on having him around longer than necessary. But still he's here now. So, please. I beg you. Let me try and talk to him. I am positive I can convince him to remain silent."

His roommates sighed and all of them looked away for a moment. Scott shook his head, while Kevin closed his eyes thinking about it. Shirley looked up to the ceiling and Brian put his hand to his forehead.

"Please," Roger looked from one to the other.

And finally the four of them turned their heads to him again.

"Alright Rog," Brian said after nodding to the others. "But if he won't shut up, he'll have to go..."

"I know," Roger answered and noticed in surprise how relieved he felt that second. He knew they were right and he knew how strange all this felt. Hell, he even doubted himself still, having brought that stranger here.

"Let's hope he doesn't have friends who'll come looking for him then," Shirley said, but nodded too.

Roger doubted that. But of course they couldn't know for sure. They simply had to be careful. And first of all that boy must wake up again before Roger even got the chance to get anything out of him. If he talked to him at all that was...

"And make sure everything remains where it is," Kevin told him as he walked past him.

This topic seemed to be over. Slowly all of them made their ways through the house again, leaving Roger alone. He stared at the glass in his hands. Damn it. He was nervous. And they could tell. He never drank anything. At least not at that time of the day. Why now? It seemed so clear to him out there. He had been certain to be doing the right thing. And now he doubted everything about his decision.

"I agreed to pay for his treatment," he said suddenly and literally could feel their heads turning towards him once more. "It won't affect you though. I promise. My agreement, my money."

He heard his roommates moan.

"Roger?" Scott asked suddenly and made the taller man turn once more to face them. "What's his name anyway?"

"I have no idea..."

….

The sun shone through the huge arched glazed windows and made the white room and the satin linen glow like pearls. When he opened his eyes the lightness blinded him but he wasn't really able to move his arms to cover his eyes. All in all his whole body ached. Much more than it did before. It felt as though he'd been walking forever and only just now noticed how tired he was. And when he finally managed to blink his blurry sight away he looked around uncertain. It took him quite a moment to remember where he was and more importantly why he was in this strange place. But then it all came back to him. Well, almost all up to the point that person injected him something and he blacked out.

His eyes widened a little and he shot into the air, only to slump down the next moment as a sharp pain shot through his body and especially his right shoulder.

"What the hell did they do to me?" he thought and observed his arms as good as possible while writhing in the sheets with his face almost touching his own knees. But he couldn't find anything. No, they couldn't have poisoned him or anything. Only when the pain died down a bit he was really able to get a clear thought again. His right arm was bandaged and in a sling which he wore like a sash around his neck.

And then he remembered. It was his shoulder. Probably only now he really felt all those injuries tormenting his body after he was able to rest a little. So maybe this really had been a doctor after all. And that other guy? He had been so keen on supposedly helping him. But why? If life taught him one thing then it was nigh impossible to find people who'd do that in New York. But then again he didn't really know. He rested his face in his hand-the one he actually was able to move-and sighed wearily. Then he turned his head a little to look around. This sure was a strange place. Whoever lived here really could afford a life.

A knock on the door distracted him in his thoughts and caused the young man to sit upright in that bed immediately. His face changed as the huge white door opened slowly. He was about to run. Fast if possible.

A short chubby guy peeked inside carefully and when he saw him awake he slowly and almost soundless sneaked into the room. He was carrying a serving tray and approached the boy with a cheerful smile on his face.

"I've made you something to eat," he said. "I figure you must be starving after two days."

He put it down on a little bedside table next to him. The stranger's eyes widened. He kept staring at it, obviously not grasping what this was about. In front of him a huge plate of pancakes and scrambled eggs appeared, decorated with a circle of colorful flowers and a napkin folded to look like a swan.

"You can just leave it there," the guy said to him and he looked up once more. "It's better not to get up if you're not feeling well."

"Two days?" the young man asked a little uncertain and was surprised how hoarse and unfamiliar his own voice sounded.

The man nodded.

"Those sedatives were stronger than expected obviously," he smiled at him. "You've been sleeping all that time. But probably your body needed the rest."

He looked at him with a friendly face and the boy knew he was expecting him to say something. But what? This felt strange. He'd never expected to find something like this and even though his memory was still blurry he swore this wasn't the one who brought him here.

"I'm Kevin by the way," he heard the guy speak.

He held his hand towards him and only hesitantly the boy shook it, always keeping him in his sight. But he didn't really answer.

"And you are?" he asked again.

He teared his eyes open and whirled his head around, just staring at the blanket in a dark way. He didn't respond. If there had been one question he'd dreaded it was this.

"You don't remember?" Kevin asked.

Again only silence. Kevin watched him a moment, but then got up slowly.

"Well that makes it harder I suppose," he said softly. "After all we 'll have to call you somehow."

"When can I leave?" the boy asked in return.

That question came so suddenly, Kevin turned a little too fast in surprise and caused him to blench slightly.

"My dear boy," he chuckled. "You can't possibly go out there until you're fully recovered. Surely you will understand that, am I right?"

"This other man," the stranger spoke unimpressed. "The one who brought me here. He said I could leave whenever."

"You mean Roger?" Kevin responded, rubbing his neck. "Yes you see, I don't quite know everything he's said to you. But sure, you can leave if that's your wish. I doubt though you will make it far."

"Why?"

"How about coming down at first?" he fell into a smile again. "And then we'll see how much effort that costs you."

The stranger looked down again, biting his lips. This wasn't what they'd agreed on. And he wasn't really keen on staying longer than necessary. This felt strange. He'd never wanted help. And never before had he been so daring as to allow a perfect stranger to drag him along.

"It'd be a change from this room," Kevin said softly and he turned to him again. "And you could meet the others. They're dying to finally meet you. It doesn't happen too often we have a guest no one knows anything about, you know?"

"There are others?" the boy looked even more surprised now.

Where the hell did he maneuvered himself into?

Kevin on the other hand nodded.

"Three others to be exact," he answered. "Four if you count Roger."

This was strange. Five people living together? What kind of house was this?

"Where am I?" he asked after a short moment.

Kevin looked at him uncomprehendingly. He blinked once or twice and pointed to the windows.

"Have you not noticed?" he asked.

The boy slowly slipped to the edge of the bed and lifted up his head. He could barely see anything apart from the huge buildings in the distance. So, he pulled his feet out of the blanket and carefully touched the ground. It felt warmer than expected, but then again it was no wonder for everything was covered in white fluffy carpets. They lay practically everywhere on that marble ground.

Slowly he tried to balance his own weight to his feet but stumbled back immediately. His feet were shaking and he felt a little dizzy standing again. It was then he noticed that Kevin had been right. He wasn't really able to walk properly. So he could probably forget about leaving this place today. And maybe not tomorrow. Not until his body obeyed him again. A fact which bothered him more than anything else if he was honest.

But after a while it seemed to work a little better. Clumsily he stumbled over to the windows and took a look outside. He saw the huge stairs leading to the front door. It was framed with a frisky curved railing. And there were huge trees on the street every now and then. And flowers in the windows of the other houses. Houses which looked noble. Much nobler than the parts of Manhattan he'd been in until now. And between the diligent decorated facades of the huge mansion-like buildings trailed dark green ivy now and then, making them look like they had been built on trees rather than gray stone.

"This is the Upper East Side," he heard Kevin's voice again.

The Upper East Side? How on earth did he come here? He'd heard of that part of the city before, but only people with lots of influence and money lived here. Or so he'd always thought. And looking at this house he couldn't be too wrong.

"So honey," Kevin smiled at him again. "Now that you're standing anyway, would you like to come down with me?"

"Honey?" The boy looked at him with wide eyes.

And for a moment he swore Kevin blushed slightly.

"Ugh, pal? Buddy?"

No way...

Something about him made the stranger smirk though. Unless he wasn't completely mistaken...

"Could I get my clothes then?" he asked a little more amused now.

"Oh," Kevin rushed over to the door again and opened it hastily. He vanished for a second behind it but kicked it open with his shoulder again quickly, carrying something that looked like folded clothes. He stepped closer and handed it to him.

"Your stuff is with Brian," he explained, judging his baffled face. "He's the one doing the laundry and he insisted on doing your clothes too."

The boy blinked once not believing his ears and then looked at whatever Kevin handed him there. A white shirt and white cloth trousers. He sighed slightly. But then he took it and quickly slipped into it. Kevin didn't even turn. Usually it would have made him feel a little strange but somehow he couldn't help but smile. He just pretended he didn't notice.

And when he was finished he looked at himself and wrinkled his nose slightly. He'd never had looked good in white. But obviously he had no other choice right now if he didn't want to stay in that strange room and going with that guy half naked wasn't an option either.

"Honey, you look gorgeous," Kevin said, clapping his hands.

Again, the boy smirked.

"Well, come on then," Kevin rushed by his side, putting his hands on his back carefully to make sure he wouldn't fall. "Walk this way please!"

He lifted his arm and walked a little in front of him, gesturing him to follow. The stranger closed his eyes shortly and smiled, but then followed him as good as possible.

….

This house indeed was huge. He nearly lost his orientation following Kevin. They passed so many doors, the stranger nearly lost count. And the huge stairs in the middle of the entrance wasn't much better. It was curved to both sides forming a nice semi-circle to the entrance hall. And yes this indeed was a hall. Everything was kept in marble white and every once in a while he spotted huge paintings. Very obscure ones for that matter. Furry animals and naked bodies, usually the backs of men. Hardly any color was to be found in that house except for the paintings.

A huge chandelier hung in the entrance hall and it gave the whole place a more palace-like look than before. Sometimes a bunch of flowers was decorating a human-sized pillar but they kind of got lost in the mass of white everywhere. If the boy didn't know there were people living here, it would have appeared like a museum. A little cold but somehow so tidy he almost didn't dare to step anywhere in fear he made a mess.

Kevin kept on walking. He wondered how huge this house really was for he couldn't quite see the light at the end of the tunnel yet. But then the chubby man turned left and opened a door, holding it for the stranger while smiling at him again.

The boy stopped. He heard voices coming from that room and immediately felt a little intimidated again.

"Don't worry," Kevin said. "They don't bite."

So, he took a deep breath and slowly set one foot before the other, walking through that door-frame.

And immediately he felt six pairs of eyes on him. He held his breath and straightened up. This felt wrong.

They were in there and looked at him as though he was some kind of wild animal no one had ever seen before. A little awe was in their eyes but also a lot of questions. And was that a hint of fear? He couldn't tell. Blinking once he told himself he must have been wrong. It was gone. Strange.

A huge skinny looking guy with short ash blonde hair stood next to a huge marble table with a cup in his hands. A beefy looking man with a big black mustache stood leaned to a sink and a smaller, very masculine woman – at least he thought it was one – sat on a chair in the middle of what obviously was a kitchen. Neither of them said a word. All they did was piercing him with their stares. The boy felt a shiver down his spine watching them.

But then Kevin entered the room too and luckily broke that silence.

"Well as you can see, he's awake," he grinned at the others. "And he was excited to meet you too."

They simply turned their heads from Kevin to the boy again, but their faces stayed blank. And they did it with an unbelievable synchronicity, it made him almost laugh. If the situation hadn't been so odd of course. They looked like they've been rehearsing this for ages. Almost like actors in a play doing everything right on cue.

"Hi?" The boy lifted his hand a little uncertain and croaked that greeting more than actually saying it.

But the moment his voice sounded through the kitchen, the three of them seemed to exhale immediately and smiled at him warmly.

"Why hello, young man!"

"We thought you'd never awake again, sleeping beauty!"

"We were so curious about you!"

The boy didn't believe his eyes. This was like turning a page of a book and wondering why there was no following until you noticed there was one page missing. It was almost hilarious to watch. He stood here a little lost though. Slowly he looked around.

"How's your arm?" he heard that woman ask.

He turned and almost jumped aside, finding her standing next to him and observing it carefully.

"It hurts a little," he answered silently and immediately wondered why he said anything at all.

"Well, you shouldn't strain yourself yet," she said and rushed over to the table, pulling a chair to him. "Sit down. I insist."

"You wouldn't wanna start a fight with Shirley," that huge guy laughed. "She has her ways to convince you, so you better do what she says right away."

Shirley? The boy's face froze on him, but slowly, very slowly, he sat down on that chair. Only seconds later he found himself surrounded by the four of them and all kinds of food and a cup of tea in front of him. They all rushed around to make everything as comfortable as possible for him and sat down next to him as soon as they were convinced he couldn't complain anymore. Not that he did say anything in the first place.

And once more, he noticed their eyes on him.

"So...er... You all live here?" he asked hesitantly, looking from one to the other.

"Why yes dear," the tall guy answered in a high pitched voice.

The boy's head snapped up again hearing it.

"This is like a shared apartment," he explained, smiling at him widely. "You've heard of something like that before, haven't you?"

"Yes," he answered. "Just not in this part of the city."

"Oh well, we all stranded here after meeting Roger," Shirley said in return. "There was quite some trouble in each of our lives and well we weren't allowed to w...I mean..."

He watched Kevin poking her side with his elbow.

"We decided to share this because...," she added but seemed lost somehow.

"It's a financial arrangement," the beefy guy interrupted. "This way it's much easier to afford something like that."

"Why the Upper East Side?" the boy grinned at them. He would have given it everything he had, he was right...

"Oh well," Kevin said. "It's a nice place to stay. Quiet and calm and..."

"Not too dangerous," the tall one joined in.

"Dangerous?"

"NO! No," Kevin coughed twice and then smiled again. "He didn't mean dangerous. I mean ha ha ...What's dangerous anyway? It's not like...like people were, you know, judging..."

"KEVIN!" the others poo pooed him almost instantly.

"I understand," the boy replied giggling slightly and holding his hand to his mouth.

"You do?" The tall man looked at him surprised and all the others froze in their actions and stared at him again.

There it was again. That hint of fear.

"It's safer to hide somewhere in the city than let's say a place like Christopher Street," the boy grinned at them.

Their eyes grew to new dimensions and told him that moment he was on the right track.

"No way!"

"What are you fantasizing about in your little head?"

"You must have been bumped harder than we thought!"

"Why would we have anything to do with that street?"

He laughed silently.

"Oh please," he answered, looking from one to the other. He seemed to be pretty amused by them. "Allow me a guess. You all were fired and thrown out of your places when they found out."

"Found out?" Kevin jeered a little uncertain and tried hard to sound casual even though he was tense. "Found out what?"

"Found out you were gay," the boy smiled at him openly. "Probably all of you."

They stared at him again in an unbelieving way.

"Oh yesssss," the boy grinned again. "I guess that's it exactly."

The four of them looked at each other in guilt and then lowered their heads as if they were embarrassed.

"Was it that obvious?" Shirley asked silently.

"Yes," the boy laughed, nodding his head cheerfully. "But don't worry, I guess no one will find you here. No one would expect people like," he stopped in the middle of the sentence and his face turned blank again. "Well, no one will search for you here."

They held their gazes for a moment, but then all of them smiled again warmly.

"So you're not gonna tell on us?" the tall man asked.

"Why should I?"

"I'm Brian," the beefy guy said suddenly and almost slipped over the table to shake his hand delightedly. "I told you he wasn't gonna tell."

"Shirley," the woman smiled at him and suddenly the boy was sure she really was a woman.

He smiled back at her, nodding once.

"I'm Kevin. I told you already," Kevin said again in a friendly way.

"Scott!" the tall one said.

The boy smiled at them. How curious. He'd never expected he'd find himself in a queer apartment after all and as strange as they seemed at first, they appeared to be warm and friendly even though a little craziness hung like a cloud over them. It almost made him laugh. Who would have thought of that?

"So how do we call you?" another voice behind him sounded and made him whirl around.

He almost fell off the chair. There he was again.

The guy who'd convinced him to come here in the first place stood in the door-frame with his arms folded and his shoulder leaned to the white wood. He looked serious though.

The boy bit his lips and lowered his eyes again. There was something intimidating about this one and right now he felt his heart sink again. The carefree manner of his roommates was somehow completely missing in him. And he looked so sinister somehow.

"Don't be so rushing on him Roger," Scott said to him. "He's shy."

"Shy or not," Roger replied, moving towards him in quick steps. "Are you going to shut up about this or not?"

"I..."

"Yes or No?"

"Yes, I..."

"Good enough," Roger said and moved over to the sink. He grabbed a glass from a shelve and poured himself a bit of water which he swallowed in no time.

"Heaven's Roger," Kevin got up, looking at him. "What's that mood?"

"He's had a long night," Shirley grinned at Kevin.

"That guy from the bar?" Brian grinned at the tall man. "Seriously? Are you starting to live again?"

"Would you stay out of this?" Roger answered angrily. "Why the hell did you bring him down here?"

"Oh, he woke up and...," Kevin started but got interrupted rather quickly.

"I can see that!" Roger flamed him. "But he wasn't supposed to get up yet. Hell, he's injured still Kevin!"

"I only though it was nice for him to meet everyone," Kevin tried to explain.

"And risk the progress of two days just because you queens couldn't wait?" Roger bellowed.

"Hey!" Shirley said defending herself.

"I'm fine," the boy interrupted shyly.

"I expected you to say that of course," Roger turned to him.

He immediately flinched and felt his body stiffen. This man was scaring him a lot. And he couldn't even explain why. He'd never done anything to him. At least not in a physical way. Plus he didn't know about the past two days.

"But you shouldn't be out here already," the tall man continued and came closer still. "I don't want you to collapse again. Not on my expense."

"I never asked you to..."

"Yeah spare me," he waved his arm once and turned towards the door again. "Lie down. No discussions. And tell them your name for heaven's sake. They've been guessing for days and I am tired of hearing it."

"Roger, he doesn't remember," Kevin tried to interfere.

But Roger simply jeered.

"Yeah right," he said, stepping closer to the boy again.

He grabbed the chair he was sitting on and pulled it closer to himself, holding his hands so he wasn't able to slip away underneath him. The boy leaned back as good as possible, looking scared. He held his arm again and almost didn't dare to breathe. Those brown eyes were piercing him.

"Next thing you're gonna tell them is you don't know how you got battered like that, right?" he said and appeared more than dangerous suddenly. "Well, let me tell you this. I don't think you don't know how this happened. And I warn you once not to play any games. Don't try anything. I will notice."

"You were the one bringing me here," the boy gasped under his grip, almost bending over the backrest of that chair.

"Yeah and you gratefully took my help if I remember right," Roger nodded and jeered again sarcastically. "Well I did help you. You're welcome. And now it's your turn to help me and recover. And this won't happen if you sit here, gossiping with them."

"I never asked you to," the boy replied with his eyes teared wide open.

"No Darling," Roger answered and for a second something like a smile appeared on his face. "I know you didn't. But sad for you, I am responsible now. I told you before. It concerns me now as well. So please. I beg you only once: Look after yourself while you're here."

He let go of him as quickly as he'd grabbed him and moved towards the door.

"And Darling?" he said, stopping shortly without turning.

The boy didn't look up but stared straight ahead with wide eyes.

"At least think of something we can call you," he said.

Then he turned to the corridor and vanished from their sights.

The kitchen was silent for a moment. None of them seemed to breathe anymore and their eyes were still fixated on the door. Unbelievable. Then they all seemed to exhale slowly, shaking their heads.

"He can be such a pain in the ass," Scott said, grabbing his cup once more and sipping a bit.

"Probably that guy was a disappointment," Shirley grinned at him. "He always gets like that when it happens and he didn't sleep the night."

"You shouldn't take his words to seriously," Kevin said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder comfortingly. "He's usually a very nice guy."

The boy lifted his head and looked at him shocked. There were tears of horror in his eyes.

"How can you say that?" he asked a little out of breath. "That man is horrible."

"No, he is not," Brian answered calmly. "He really did worry about you a lot. You just caught him in a bad mood."

"I've gotta get outta here," the boy said and got up.

He immediately grabbed the backrest of that chair though, as his feet wouldn't carry him that quickly. Kevin rushed by his side.

"You know he was right in a way," Kevin said. "You definitely should recover first."

"I can't stay here," the boy looked at him shocked. "Not with this choleric person around."

"You know, he pays for your treatment," Shirley's voice sounded and made him look up at her in surprise. "He was the one insisting on you staying here and getting the medical treatment you needed."

"She's right," Scott agreed. "We wanted to get rid of you immediately. It was Roger who was defending you all along."

"Why?" the boy asked weakly. "He doesn't seem like such a person at all."

The four of them shrugged.

"Maybe he saw something in you we weren't able to," Scott answered and turned to look at him blankly. "You shouldn't judge that easily."

"Listen...Darling," Kevin addressed him again.

"Darling?"

"Well, we gotta call you something since you can't tell us your name," he grinned at him. "And I guess to make you feel a bit better about Roger we should use his name for a while."

Darling didn't respond, but stared at him with wide eyes. This just couldn't be true. But then Kevin smiled again and it kind of soothed him a bit.

"Can we agree on you staying until you are able to walk again and your shoulder is completely mended?" he asked. "It'll take some weeks, but I promise you, none of us will stop you then. You can leave. Whenever you like. But please. We all will be worrying sick if you go now."

"Plus Roger will kill us if we let you," Shirley laughed unimpressed.

"Please," Kevin ignored her and fixated on Darling. "I promise I'll do my best to keep Roger away from you if he scares you that much."

"We all will," Brian said, getting up. "We know him best. And we can surely convince him to stay low until you feel able to stand up against him."

Darling looked from one to the other. They seemed so determined this guy wasn't like he just experienced. And after all they meant well. He knew that.

He sighed and rubbed over his face with his hand. He was becoming calmer again. That first shock vanished slowly, he could feel it. And actually, he had to admit he had nowhere else to go right now.

So, he nodded slowly.

"Thank you," Kevin smiled at him. "Come on then. I'll bring you back upstairs."

"It was a pleasure to having met you, Darling," Shirley smiled at him.

"If you'll need anything, just call for us," Scott added quickly.

"And try to relax a little," Brian winked at him.

Darling turned without a response though and followed Kevin, who put his arm around his shoulder in a comforting way. He did this partly for them too. They seemed nice. All of them. But he was certain about one thing:

Never would he get used to that Roger. That lunatic...

 _~To be continued~_


	3. Hold your head high

"You should cut your hair!"

"What's wrong with my hair?"

Scott kept bothering him with the idea of cutting them for days. And right now Darling was standing with him in the living room while he had his hands covered in rubber gloves and scrubbing the many side tables and chairs.

"It's too long," Scott said, smiling to himself and not looking up.

"You think?" Darling stroked through it with one hand, watching Scott doing his cleaning.

His hair had always been a little tangled and it had gotten longer during the past two weeks. Now it was almost curly he had to admit, but it was hardly leaving his neck still. Scott kept complaining about it though. Basically because the muddled strands were casually falling in his face lately. He didn't mind though. In fact he kind of embraced a different look somehow. But actually he secretly admired their way to see things and all of them somehow had an eye for whatever looked good and what didn't even though they didn't quite knew how to use it for themselves.

He was sitting on a very old bench seat upholstered in red velvet. One of many old furniture in this strange house. Darling had long but gotten used to it though. Only sometimes one of them caught his eye still and he seriously started to wonder how they were able to afford all this. None of this house's residents would tell him really. But then again he didn't ever really ask about it. He'd just hoped someone would let slip that little information in their conversations. And yes, he did make more and more contact to them each day. And they seemed to enjoy his presence more and more. At first they came into his room every day for a few hours to keep him company. And by and by Darling opened up to them a little. His first impression hadn't been wrong though. They were a little crazy indeed. All of them. But they meant well and he really started to like the time he spent with them.

The next step had been leaving that damn room. He felt bored being in there. He got used to the view out of that window into the street very quickly and he had been wandering around his _'white cage'_ a thousand times over. First he'd sneaked out a couple of times during the day and just strolled around the house, trying hard to remember everything and finally find a way through it. His own little rebellion as he called it in his head. And what did this guy expect? That he stayed in there like a prisoner? No, he was way too well trained in breaking out of rules and people telling him what to do. But of course it didn't take too long and he got caught. Luckily it had been Kevin. The chubby man had simply smiled at him when he almost bumped into him in one of the corridors and had handed over a couple of fabric rolls he was carrying.

"You can help me," he'd said.

Darling had been spending that afternoon with him, handing him fabrics every now and then or sometimes only a safety pin or two. Kevin was sewing a lot. Or so it seemed. He'd shown him his atelier as he called it. A huge room near the attic which – oh surprise – had been painted white entirely. He kept a handful of mannequins in there and used them to create colorful and glittering clothes. He'd shown him his works too. Darling had been impressed. He'd never imagined someone doing this as a hobby, but then Kevin had told him it was his job to do it. And his talent for that matter. But even then he had failed to say a single word about what exactly he did for a living. If Darling had guessed though, he would have bet it had something to do with show business. Or burlesque shows.

After that one afternoon things got a little easier for him. Usually one of them waited outside his room or inconspicuously wandered past it and knocked twice whenever Roger had left the house or it was at least safe for him to come out. He didn't like him strolling around and he still was of the opinion if their guest stayed in bed it'd be safer for him. Which it probably was. But Roger's roommates seemed to understand the boredom Darling felt and helped him getting out every time.

This morning had been no exception. As soon as Roger left the house to go wherever he was going all day long the four of them stood at the end of that semi-circle stairs and smiled at each other.

"Come on out," Shirley had yelled up to him.

As soon as Darling peaked out of the room smiling at them, Brian had added:

"He's gone. Don't be shy. I guess he won't be back until midnight."

They all had run off to do their chores then. Darling had been walking around, talking a bit to everyone now and then and finally had sat down next to Scott in the huge living room.

"You need a little color in here," he said, dreamily staring into space.

"Color?" For once Scott looked up to him.

"Yes, just a few dots to loosen that white in white," Darling smiled at him. "It's a little depressing after a while."

Scott laughed.

"I'd say you need something to do," he grinned. "Sitting around all day long must bring a certain amount of boredom. Here..."

He threw a tea towel at him, which Darling caught with his left hand. He was getting better and better using it.

"Make yourself useful," he smiled. "You can easily wipe those shelves with just one arm."

Darling moaned and got up. That's not what he really meant, but he had to admit he kind of enjoyed it after a while. At least it was something he could do. He'd wondered of course why they did all that. After all it couldn't be hard for them to hire someone to keep the house clean. But then again, they were so afraid of someone might noticing. And certainly it was a problem in this part of the city.

Dully he wiped past a few porcelain vases and something that looked like silvery crystal decoration in the shapes of human bodies. Darling frowned slightly. Why would someone put that up? Not exactly beautiful. But then the engravings on bottom of those hideous things caught his attention.

 _'Roger DeBris'_ they all said. Some of them even had a year underneath the name.

Darling put aside that towel for a moment and took one of them. They were heavier than they looked to be honest. Turning them once or twice he sighed. There was nothing else.

"Be careful with them," he heard Scott speak and turned to look at him. "Roger surely would kill me if you break them."

Darling jeered.

"He disapproves of a lot of things, doesn't he?" he asked, putting that thing back where it belonged.

"Not really," Scott smiled at him and stepped closer. "It's just as though you're holding his life in your hands. And I guess no one would like to see that in shatters."

"His life?"

"They're awards," Scott nodded and pointed at the one he'd just had in his hands. "This one was his first. The very symbol for what he could achieve when he didn't believe in himself at all."

Darling looked at them once more. Awards for what? He couldn't think of anything that bad tempered man would earn something like that for. But of course they knew him better. Apart from their little talk in the kitchen they hadn't spoken one word to one another until now. And being honest to himself Darling didn't want to change that. Usually he hid from his eyes and even when he was in the kitchen in the evenings with Shirley or Brian, he always hurried a lot whenever he knew Roger was home. Once or twice he'd been passing the kitchen door, but he never said anything. At least not to him. And he usually wasn't alone. In fact there hadn't been one night he didn't bring anyone with him. Usually men he'd never seen before in that house and also he never saw them again. He'd witnessed the others every time. They kept their mouths shut about it, but sometimes Shirley would grin at one of them knowingly or Kevin would roll his eyes, whispering _'Not again'_. Only once their eyes had met. Darling had stood right next to Kevin when Roger had walked past them and pushed Anonymous the Twentieth into another door. As hard as he'd tried, Darling hadn't been able to turn his gaze away. Roger had stopped though right in the door-frame as though he'd felt his eyes on him. He'd held his stare for a moment but his face had remained blank. And then he'd turned and followed that guy without a comment, closing that door behind him silently.

All in all Darling's impression of that guy hadn't changed much. This guy was grumpy and bossy and in a way so intimidating even his roommates seemed to do everything he wanted. What a jerk. Everyone who even thought of giving him an award must be as idiotic as Mr. _Rich-And-Noble-But-Afraid-Of-Someone-Might-Notice-I'm-Gay_ as well.

"He's got you under his thumb completely, hasn't he?" Darling murmured, but only noticed he'd said it when Scott looked at him wide-eyed.

Darling's face flushed immediately.

"Sorry," he turned his head away, grabbing that towel once more and moving to the next shelve. "I didn't mean to insult you."

"You didn't," Scott replied. "But you don't know him the way we do. So it's a little unfair to say that."

"Well excuse me. All I see is you doing everything to make his life comfortable while he's screwing a new guy every night," Darling whirled around, his voice rising.

"You should talk to him and you'd understand," Scott replied calmly. He didn't move at all, just kept staring back at him.

"I won't," Darling answered and turned away, wiping the next shelve angrily.

"Don't be so stubborn," Scott said. "I'm pretty sure you'd get along well."

"He doesn't want me here," Darling replied silently. "He's shown it too well. And I think it's better not to get used to all this. After all I'll leave soon anyway."

He heard Scott laugh silently.

"You're not so different, you know? I mean Roger and you."

He focused on that shelve. Why did this make him so angry? Being compared to that guy shouldn't bother him at all, yet it did. He wasn't like that. What did they know anyway. All they knew about him contained two weeks and a few conversations. And it hadn't been his choice to be with them.

He kept on scrubbing harder trying to distract himself, but somehow the image of that man pulling just another guy behind him into the house made him sick. He was exactly that sort of homosexual who caused the bad reputation everywhere. But why did it cause such anger in him? He shouldn't care at all.

His thoughts were interrupted when he accidentally bumped a framed picture and teared it down. He was able to catch it by stemming his chest against it before it fell down to the ground though and quickly grabbed it, letting go of that towel.

Darling took it and slowly put it back in place. But he was bound to look at it closer and only then recognized the people on that very old looking photograph. And for a second he didn't quite believe his own eyes.

"I told you," Scott's voice reappeared behind him. He must have gotten closer to him now staring over his shoulder.

It was them. All of them. Much younger of course, but still there they were. In that picture. All of them smiling into the camera. Roger was in their midst and had his arms around their shoulders. They stood on something that looked like a stage. At least the little rest of a curtain that was to be seen indicated it.

"You see, we all wouldn't be here the way we are," Scott spoke again, watching his face change. "If it hadn't been for him."

"Well with that attitude for sure," Darling snorted and was about to turn again.

But Scott held him back this time. Whirling around once more Darling looked into his face once more which had changed to a more reproachful look.

"Hey, he's had to face a lot of shit himself," he said a bit sharper. "You're really not in the position to say anything against that."

"Why not?" Darling shook his hand away. "You forgot it was him dragging me here. But I am not exactly a case for this nuthouse. Whatever he did to you I bet it started with some little _favor_ , hasn't it? After all that's all he does all day long."

"Listen you know nothing," Scott sounded angry now too. "No matter what you think you might have seen, you don't know half of it."

"Tell me then," Darling shouted back. "Isn't that how it works? Telling the inmate the whole story at a certain point? You can very well start now then."

"Inmate?"

Scott's anger vanished. He stepped back a little but his gaze never left Darling, who looked away quickly. He bit his lips knowing perfectly well he shouldn't have said that.

"Is that how you see yourself?" Scott asked a little taken aback.

"I'm sorry," Darling murmured.

"He took you in," Scott continued. "He took care of you when no one else did. And he still cares, even though he doesn't show it to you."

"I don't care what he does," Darling replied loudly. "He should have left me out there. I wasn't his problem."

"How can you say that?"

"Because that's how it was supposed to be," Darling answered now very quietly.

Scott watched him for a moment. He hadn't been wrong at all. The young man had been through a lot obviously. And maybe it really had been only his exhaustion that made him agree to come here in the first place. Roger had mentioned a feeling; something he hadn't been able to explain to him. And he knew for sure his friend never had been someone to abandon a boy like that. But still he had no idea what had driven those two together that day. Neither of them had spoken about it. But there was something about Darling he must admit. And he could tell Roger saw it too. After all Scott was quite certain the presence of their young guest was the very reason for Roger returning to his _'normal'_ life again. And even if that boy disagreed, it was good to see him out of that strange phase he'd been in lately.

"Don't you think it's time to tell us what happened?" Scott asked hesitantly. "No one gets wounds like yours just by walking the streets and to be honest we've been puzzling a lot about it."

Darling remained silent. He just shook his head hardly visible and closed his eyes. Scott could tell he was close to tears being reminded of whatever there was that kept torturing him.

"Do you even have anywhere to go at all?" he kept asking. "A family? Friends?...A partner?"

Darling teared open his eyes in shock hearing his words and whirled around. Scott backed away a little. He didn't intend to upset him like that, yet he could see that question aroused something that hadn't been there before.

But Darling's eyes simply kept on piercing him; fearful and frightened. Then, without any further words spoken he turned and ran up the stairs again.

Scott followed him slowly, but stopped in the door just looking after him. He closed his eyes then and smirked.

"Just what we'd expected," he thought.

….

"He hasn't come out yet?"

Shirley asked him during dinner. Scott had told them about Darling's reaction and apologized a hundred times over for seemingly having driven him away. Obviously something about his notion aroused some kind of rather dark memories in the young man. He'd locked himself into that room and hadn't replied to anything. Naturally Scott had tried to talk to him but darling had neither answered nor opened the door.

"I wonder what really happened," Brian said, looking at Shirley. "If he reacted like that it must have been worse than we expected."

"I'm pretty sure it's not at all," Scott answered sincerely.

"I agree," Kevin joined them. "He is no street-kid. Or haven't been for long. Have you ever seen them? He's not like that."

"Well, whatever it was make sure Roger doesn't find out about it," Shirley waved her ladle at them warningly. "If he finds out you've upset him we're done."

"If he finds out about that it'll be all our heads," Kevin replied to her casually, jeering slightly and shaking his head at her in disbelief. "He would find out we've let him get up and stroll around the house all day long."

"Right," Shirley agreed and lowered her arm again.

"Well and what now?" Brian asked. "We're starting from scratch again if he decides to remain silent."

"Maybe that's what he wants," Scott answered.

"Oh please," Shirley looked at him, rolling her eyes. "He's a child. He doesn't know what he wants."

"Now come on, he's not a child," Scott turned his head towards her, letting his hands fall on the table. "And we should stop treating him like one."

"He's right," Brian agreed. "He sure is younger than you or me but look at him. He must be in his mid-twenties. I don't know for sure but no...definitely not a child anymore."

"And he probably went through a lot," Kevin thought about it too. "I mean just remember the first day he came here. Did he say something about those injuries at all?"

All their eyes focused on Scott that very moment. But the tall man just shook his head.

"No, not a word," he answered. "But if you allow me to guess it's the oldest lesson in history..."

"History?" Shirley asked, raising her eyebrows. "What history?"

"Ours for example," Scott looked up at her and grinned slightly. "Yours and mine. And everyone else's."

"What do you mean?" Kevin asked; his eyes fixated on him.

"Darling's gay," Scott replied with a never known certainty. "And he probably got thrown out and got caught in the crossfire somewhere. Probably someone else noticed and disliked it. Easy as that."

"Do you really think that?" Brian interrupted him.

Scott simply nodded again. And then he got up and wandered through the kitchen, stopping at the huge window. He leaned to the wall and kept staring outside; his arms crossed in front of his body.

"You should have seen his eyes," he spoke very quiet now, just as though he feared someone who shouldn't might hear him. "When I asked him. So shocked. And so frightful. Believe me, this must be the reason why he agreed so quickly not to tell anyone what he saw here. He's one of us. It's not so hard to see if you look closely though. He tries to hide it, but every single one of his movements is a clue. I'm more surprised we didn't notice earlier."

The other three listened carefully. And as soon as Scott had mentioned his little theory they looked at each other again. He had a point. A good one too. Being quite frank the signs had been more than obvious. Darling had found out about them in a heart-beat. He had been the first to mention Christopher Street too; a place no one would think about if said person had no clue at all what happened there. And even though his arm was still bandaged and in a sling he'd always had a way in moving too lightly; nigh graceful. They often had compared it to dancing when they'd been talking about him.

So yes, it was quite possible. More a Probability for sure. And one look at one another was enough to know each of them was agreeing to that.

"So what do we do now?" Kevin asked after a while.

"'Bout what?" Scott turned his head to him again.

"Well, with us gone tonight and him locked in that room up there," Kevin spoke again. "Couldn't that cause, you know... some problems?"

"True," Shirley propped up her head with her hand, thinking about it.

"We'll have to tell him then," Brian said defiantly.

"But he'll..."

"Oh for heaven's sake," he got up rather quickly. "Even if he doesn't answer, he'll listen. And if you don't dare it, then I'm gonna do it."

He pushed his chair to the side and with large steps went out of the kitchen. The rest of them remained where they were baffled for a moment. But then they all got up as quickly as their feet carried them too and ran after him.

Arriving at the huge white door they all stopped though. Brian had his hand lifted but it held it in midair as well. Hesitantly he looked over his shoulder to his roommates.

They all stood very close to each other and reminded him for a moment of a legion of owls all looking at him with wide eyes which weren't blinking at all. But then Shirley gestured to him to go on.

Brian took a deep breath and much gentler than intended he knocked at the door.

"Darling?"

No answer. Of course not.

"Listen, uh...," he started slowly. "We won't be here this evening and we thought you might wanna know. You know. In case you thought about coming out again."

They waited for what seemed an eternity but no reaction followed. So their bodies relaxed a little and they all exhaled deeply. Just what they'd expected. Again. Brian turned to look at them once more, but as soon as he saw his friends shaking their head simultaneously he sighed too.

So, he turned and was about to leave with the others again, who turned on their heels and already tip-toed down two or three steps when suddenly the sound of an unlocking door made them freeze again.

The huge gate-like door opened and then the face of Darling appeared behind them again. He looked horrible. Paler than before and much sadder than before. He had his head lowered and looked at them from underneath the strands that till fell into his face.

"Hey honey," Kevin smiled at him and stepped a little closer again. "Are you okay?"

Darling nodded and looked as though nothing had happened at all. Maybe he just needed some time with himself to face his demons. They weren't sure though.

"Listen sweetheart, we're sorry for what happened," Scott said silently, rubbing his neck. "We didn't mean to upset you. And I surely didn't mean to rush you into anything."

"I know," Darling replied hoarsely, turning his head away giving the impression it still hurt him a lot.

So they hadn't been wrong. He was only putting on a show.

"You don't have to speak about it if you don't want to," Shirley agreed with Scott.

"Where are you going?" Darling asked shyly and turned to them again. He had a way in changing the topic each time.

The four of them looked at each other for a moment. There surely was no harm in telling him.

"We'll visit Christopher Street," Brian replied softly.

Just hearing the name of that street made Darling tense again. They could easily see it. His body stiffened again and even though he tried not to show it, a horrified spark was there in his eyes within a second.

"We'd ask you to come along, but...," Shirley started, but Darling quickly stepped back a little.

His hand wandered up his injured arm and he held it once more just as though the pure mention of that street brought back the pain he'd felt a few weeks ago. Quickly he shook his head though.

"No, don't worry about that," he tried to hide it behind a weak smile. "I'll get along. When will you be back?"

"Can't tell yet," Brian answered once more. "We just wanted to let you know. You might not want to stroll around tonight."

"And in case you're hungry," Kevin jumped in. "I'll bring you something up when we're leaving."

Darling looked at them still smiling, but they could tell he wasn't really fixating them. It was as though he saw right through them that moment. As if he was just listening without really getting what they said to him.

"It's alright," he said then and much to their surprise, his voice was almost gone. "See you tomorrow then."

"No trying to flee then?" Brian asked sincerely. All of them had that question in mind but only now someone dared to really speak it out loud.

Darling shook his head though.

"I promised not to," he replied. "And I won't break my word. You just have fun. I'll stay in there..."

Thus he turned again and vanished into that _'prison'_ as he obviously still saw the room as. The four friends shared confused looks once more. Was it too early? No, he said it didn't matter to him. And he didn't seem to mind at all. He even agreed on staying where he was. But his face. It spoke volumes. He didn't really seem to like Christopher Street at all. But they knew there was no chance in asking him why. This conversation was over. So they turned their backs on the door again and moved downstairs.

….

He sat on that bed just staring out of the window. While he kept the lights switched off he was perfectly able to see everything that was going on outside. And even though he only was able to see the facade of the house on the other side of the street it kind of soothed him. The windows there were brightly lit and from time to time he was able to sneak a peek at the people living there. A young couple, so it seemed. A young red-haired woman and a tall blonde handsome man. They were passing the windows from time to time and Darling enjoyed their presence somehow, even though he knew it wasn't really as though they noticed him in any way.

They sat on a gray comfortable looking couch right now, snuggled together underneath a brown fluffy blanket. She was reading in a book which lay in her lap while his head softly rested on her head. He wore a loving smile while stroking through her fiery hair gently, always pulling out one of her long strands. Sometimes she would look up to him or kiss him on the cheek. But every time they smiled at each other and then there always was that look in their eyes.

Darling knew that look. He'd known it himself. But it seemed so long ago. An eternity even. And in a way it made him always a little sentimental. Still he longed for nightfall each day to witness that little piece of familiar comfort which brought him a kind of warmth he couldn't explain himself. All he knew was he had been longing for exactly that kind of familiarity, or love or whatever you want to call it, himself.

But he was ripped out of his little daydream abruptly when he heard the sound of voices coming from downstairs. He lifted his head for a moment and listened carefully. It was them. They laughed and talked just the way they always did. Just as though he wasn't there. But then again, he couldn't even blame them. They had their lives. And they needed to live them. Just because everything he'd had and everything he'd known had been taken away from him didn't mean others should stop living as well. He knew that. And yet he felt like a stranger even more. This house and everything was so horribly unfamiliar. He wondered every day why he still woke up here and how on earth he came to be in that strange surrounding. What sadistic little twist of fate made up that path for him? Being here reminded him too much. Of everything that had happened and everything he'd lost. They were happy. And they surely deserved to be. But why did he have to witness it?

Darling snuggled closer to his knees and rested his head on them, watching the four friends leaving the house.

Christopher Street. Of course they had to go there. And why not? It was one of the few places they could be who they were. He knew. And as much as they tried to hide themselves out there, it was good not having to do it even if it was just for one night. They'd surely made bad experience as well. Scott even mentioned it. Roger sort f saved them.

Darling jeered slightly and closed his eyes. Yeah for sure. That person...

He must have screwed his way through the lot of them and then kept them there as his rightful housemaids.

But suddenly he teared his eyes wide open again. Again that guy crossed his mind. How curious. Why? He didn't care about him at all. They had only exchanged one look every since he had threatened him. Yet his mind constantly brought him back to this man. Why on earth did he agree to come with him? There had been nothing he'd said that had made Darling believe him.

But funny enough he seemed so much more friendly on that day. He remembered it clearly. Was that just a trick to get him here? What if he never would him let go again? No, he wouldn't dare. And if he dared he wouldn't succeed. His shoulder was getting better day by day. And surely he'd recover from his aching rips soon too. He was determined to run then. Far away from this psycho.

Darling looked at his hand for once. Those eyes. He just couldn't forget them. The way they looked at him when he shook his hand for the first time. So intense. So determined to do everything possible to help him. Almost as though another person had spoken through him.

And he still felt his touch on his body when he lifted him up in the air and carried him the moment he wasn't able to walk anymore. He'd been certain he'd die that very night; that this torture had to be over soon, but no. That Roger had upset his plans right away. And funny enough it felt so safe back then. In his arms. With his head leaned on his chest. As much as Darling had feared everything and everyone that moment he still remembered how sure he had been nothing was gonna hurt him as long as that guy watched over him.

The young man gasped and quickly shook his head. He felt his face flushing and getting embarrassingly hot. Quickly he got up from the bed.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" he whispered to himself.

This was ridiculous. He hadn't known what he'd engaged himself in back then. He hadn't known a bit of that man. No, he'd shown his true colors for the first time here. He was crazy. A pervert and a choleric loner. He didn't even spent his days in this house even though there was a bunch of lovable friends admiring the very ground he walked on. And now he was holding Darling captive in that shade of a _'normal'_ life disguise.

No, he couldn't let that happen. Darling got up. Never would he allow himself to become one of them. Never would he kiss this jerk's bum. And he wouldn't hide in here just because he didn't want him to see whatever he was hiding.

Darling marched out of the room in wide steps. He held his head out in the corridor and listened carefully. No sounds. None at all.

"Of course there can't be, silly," he reminded himself.

With everyone gone, he was alone. In this huge cage. So he might as well could find out now. He could try to get some answers to the many questions he had. And he needed to prove to himself he was right.

Silently he sneaked down the stairs. Once or twice he asked himself why he was being so careful. With no one around he could very well walk normally, yet somehow his whole body was tense. It was wrong to do that and he knew it. But right now he didn't care at all. He needed to know. Needed one little evidence to show them this guy was not the saint they took him for.

He went past the kitchen. His own footsteps echoed from the walls. It felt so strange. He'd only known this house filled with people. Being alone in here almost carried along something scary. Even the huge paintings looked different somehow being alone in here. Everything had something dangerous about it. Surely the night and the darkness and the missing noise did the trick too, but right now it felt more like walking a maze than anything else.

Darling stopped in front of another huge door. He turned once, seeing the familiar kitchen-entrance behind him. He'd never been in this part of the corridor before. And he knew why. His heart pounded against his chest when he turned to look at that door-knob.

This was Roger's room. He never came close to it and he never thought about it before. Too scary was the idea of facing that guy. And seeing what was insight that room. But he simply had to know right now. No one needed to know he was doing this after all. So slowly he turned the door-knob and opened the door. It squeaked. Must be the old wood for sure, but he couldn't shake the feeling of it sounding like a warning right now. Don't go any further.

This was silly. A door, that's what it was. Nothing else.

Darling pushed it open gently. At first he wasn't able to see anything. It was dark in there. Of course. Why should there be light when Roger wasn't here at all.

Slowly he stepped over the threshold and entered the room. A cold wind blew in his face. He looked around. He was hardly able to see anything still, even though his eyes got used to the darkness quickly. So Darling turned and switched on the light. A small window at the end of a surprisingly small room was still open and made the curtains fly like ghosts through the windows.

He looked around. Much to his surprise this place wasn't really anything special. In fact it looked like a closet. Small and dark, with one tiny bed in the right corner and a chair in the left. A bunch of clothes were flung loosely over its armrest. But apart from that there was nothing. No pictures. No closets. Nothing. And one thing caught his eyes immediately. This place wasn't white. As a matter of fact it seemed to be the only room in this palace that looked more like a storeroom with the cold gray stone walls and an old brown wooden floor.

Was this how he lived? Darling's eyes widened. He surely never believed that. And he had been so certain to know exactly what he would find. But no.

This place was spotless. And tiny. If he hadn't witnessed it himself he'd sworn Roger only came here to sleep and nothing more.

How very strange. Roger never once had given the impression of living this ascetic. Especially not in a house like that.

And for a moment Darling had no idea what to think at all. Slowly he sank onto that tiny bed. He felt he had to sit down, if only for a second. How could this be? Had he been that wrong all the time? No, that guy brought people here. Another man every night. How the hell did he explain that?

Darling turned his head slightly. The chair with that bunch of clothes stared at him mockingly. It was only a bundle of cloth. Not even enough to go on for a week. But Roger had always been dressed perfectly.

Darling stretched out his hand and grabbed the first garment on top of that heap. Hesitantly he pulled it closer to himself and observed it. A coat? Yes. A charcoal-gray coat.

And for a second he thought his heart stopped. It was the one he'd worn the day he had brought him here. The one Darling had got to know so closely, having fallen asleep in his arms while Roger had put exactly that piece of clothing around his shaking body.

He couldn't believe it. He turned his head once more and it was then he noticed that every single garment on that chair was exactly the outfit Roger had worn that day. No more and no less.

It confused him deeply. He'd been here since two weeks already. Why didn't he ever notice that this guy lived like that? Well, okay. Basically because he'd tried everything to stay out of the way of this one. But why didn't he just throw that stuff away? Or wash it at least. Brian would be delighted to get this rag into his hands for sure.

Darling stared at this thing in his hands. Why would he keep that? He could clearly see the blood that still stuck to it. That cloth. He still remembered it. And it still felt exactly the same. And all of this was more than confusing. How could someone turn the image he was giving to the outside around without even being there? Darling felt like being hypnotized. This wasn't possible. He acted rough and grumpy but everything he'd found until now didn't underline one single conclusion at all.

So slowly Darling pulled that coat a little closer until his face almost touched it. That man. Once more he saw him in front of him. Those dark eyes. They had been looking deep insight his soul. Or at least that's what it felt like. There simply had been no escaping him.

He lifted that coat a little and inhaled deeply. His scent was still sticking to it. It was as though his hands were carrying him again that very moment. He felt his grip. Strong but soft. Darling closed his eyes. And just for that moment he was there again. In that little alley. Covered in blood but protected by his arms which softly held him close to his body.

And the very next moment Darling teared his eyes wide open as he noticed his heart pounding against his chest fiercely. Shocked, he threw that coat away from himself and got up, stepping back a little. But still he wasn't able to turn his gaze down.  
Why did his head bring that scene back to him over and over again? This was scary and in a way not at all like himself. Maybe it was that house. And all those people in here. He could kick himself noticing he was seemingly falling for his bluff more and more. Maybe it was the first stage of becoming just what they all are now. But no. He couldn't allow that. He just couldn't.

But why did his heart beat so fast each time he thought about him?

His head rose high up in the air in horror as he suddenly heard the front door opening.

Shit. How long had he been in here? It wasn't good if any of them saw him in here. He couldn't give them the satisfaction of finding him being curious about the man they all were wrong about. He didn't expect them back so quickly though. And suddenly a slight fear appeared in him. He must get out of here. Switch off the lights and run. And somehow quietly vanish into that white hell up there again.

He started to hurry towards the door of Roger's chamber and was just about to leave. One quick turn again just to check if everything was still the way he'd found it.

He was already half out of the room and just felt the wall for the light switch when he turned his head and froze. His jaw dropped and he didn't dare to breathe. As much as he wanted to run he was petrified.

In front of him stood neither Brian nor Kevin nor anyone else of that merry group but Roger himself who looked down at him with a blank face. Immediately Darling felt a knot in his stomach. That overwhelming fear. There it was again. So what now? He didn't expect him of all people and he caught him. Right here. Invading his privacy when he wasn't even allowed to leave the cage he'd built for him.

Roger didn't move though. He just kept staring back at the younger man. A mixture of shock and disbelief was written in his face and he had his arm raised still, probably to open the door, but couldn't take it down.

"What are you doing?" Roger whispered in a voice so unlike himself, it made Darling shiver.

"Who's that?"

Another guy stepped up behind the tall man, scanning Darling as well. An unknown blonde man Darling had never seen before. Damn it. He didn't waste one thought about Roger being the one to come home earlier than expected. And accompanied. And the stranger started to grin immediately. A grin Darling didn't like at all.

"Didn't you say they're all gone?" he said, approaching the younger man slowly. "But a cute one this is."

He took Darling's chin with one hand and literally forced him to look up in his eyes. He smiled at him, but the younger man slapped his hand away quickly and rushed backwards. Unfortunately the wall was in his way. So he pressed his back against the solid texture and immediately started to look like an intimidated animal. He glanced at that blonde man wickedly.

"Leave him be," Roger said, stepping between them and casually pushed that man a little further away. His voice was indifferent though. He turned only halfway again and looked at Darling from the corner of his eyes. "He shouldn't even be here."

It sounded more like a threat. Darling looked back at him in panic. And then he was about to leave, dragging Anonymous along. But the blonde Adonis ignored him completely. He was still fixated on the young guy who huddled against that wall and held his breath.

"Now wait a minute," he pushed Roger aside with one arm and approached him once more.

Quickly he had his hands on Darling's chin once more. Darling closed his eyes in fear. As much as he tried and wanted to get away from him, there was no way. Plus he could move only one arm properly, which already held on to the arms of that guy.

"Let go of me," he yelled at him, but Anonymous only started to laugh slightly.

"I think he's sweet. Could be fun, don't you think?" he replied, addressing Roger but came even closer to Darling.

Darling tried to push him away, but somehow it just wouldn't work. So he turned his face away as widely as possible and squeezed his eyes together. He could feel that guy being so close. His breath on his skin and his greedy eyes. He wanted to scream, but his voice just didn't obey him at all.

But suddenly he let go of him. Darling's head shot up immediately.

Roger stood right next to him and still held the arms of that guy up in the air. He didn't look too pleased at all. He stretched out his arm and almost lifted him up in the air by his shirt, staring directly into his eyes. His eyes had changed somehow. They were literally burning and not in a nice way.

"I suppose you heard me right," he breathed in Anonymous direction dangerously, clenching his teeth.

"Hey, what's your problem now?" the guy replied jeering. "The more the merrier, right?"

"So let me specify this a little more," Roger answered and pushed him roughly away. "If you ever dare to come near him again, I'll personally break your every bone. Did I make myself clear?"

Anonymous wanted to say something, but Roger was much quicker. Again he stepped between Darling and that guy, covering him protectively.

"I think it's better you leave," Roger said, straightening up.

"What?"

"Now!"

The blonde guy looked from Roger to Darling and back and within only seconds was fuming in anger. He whirled around, ready to leave.

"Fine," he answered. "I didn't know you were into the young ones anyway."

He turned and in large steps left the house, slamming the door.

And then there was silence. The whole house seemed to exhale loudly, even though no sound was to be heard at all. Darling was still shocked but slowly he felt his body soothing a little. And when he finally dared to breathe again, he felt as though his knees would give in any moment. He still stared at the door though, totally forgetting about Roger who still stood motionless in front of him. Darling hardly dared to move, but when Roger turned to him slowly his whole body stiffened once more.

"What were you doing down here?" he asked angrily. "I thought I told you to stay away."

"I'm sorry...I," Darling started, but didn't get to end whatever he might have said that moment. He didn't even know himself what he was trying to explain here.

"You were supposed to stay up there, God damn it," Roger raised his voice. "Fuck!"

How Darling hated him. That look. Those piercing eyes and that temper. He never knew how to take this guy or when his mood swings took place. Everything he despised in him, there it was again.

"I-I didn't mean to cause any harm," Darling tried though.

"Did you want that to happen?" Roger interrupted him though. "Sneaking around like that. No wonder you ended up in the streets, having almost been thrashed into hell."

Darling swallowed hard, but felt his hands forming fists.

"Well, you should have left me there then!" he suddenly screamed at the older man. "Instead of keeping me here like a prisoner!"

"Then go on! Leave! If that's where you wanna be so badly," Roger yelled back, gesturing wildly. "I won't stop you!"

Darling froze for a second, looking at him with wide eyes. But then his face darkened.

"Fine," he said quietly, fixating him.

Then he ducked away under Roger's arms and as fast as his feet carried him ran outside the door as well. Roger remained where he was. And Darling didn't dare to look back.

….

He ran down the street. Faster and faster. His feet felt like concrete and his lungs almost exploded. He felt that stabbing pain in his chest and knew immediately this heavy breathing and the physical stress was what caused his injuries to sound the alarm again, but he ignored it. All he wanted was to get away.

The street was hardly visible underneath his wet eyes. He was angry. And hurt. And he hated himself right now for letting these emotions show that openly, but as hard as he tried he couldn't stop those tears from coming. This had been the first words they'd spoken to one another in weeks and the last ones too. Why did he feel embarrassed? Why the hell did he care at all? Nothing this guy did until now effected him like that.

His shoulder hurt. Badly. And when he felt he wasn't able to go on, he stopped bending forward and breathing heavily. He had his eyes closed, but still felt sweat and tears running down his face.

Once more, he swallowed hard. Did he honestly expect something else?

Opening his eyes again he must admit yes he had. Something deep insight had secretly wished for that man to finally talk to him. He just didn't expect it to end up fulfilling all the prejudices he'd had.

Slowly he lifted his head, looking up to the sky.

And what now? The black dangerous face of the nightly clouds looked down at him mockingly. And only now he noticed how cool a night could be. And the wind increased by the minute. Darling looked around. He didn't even know where he was. He'd never been in that part of the city before and there was nowhere he could turn to now.

His body shivered. And just when the pain in his chest reported back, he felt cold drops of rain falling down on him heavily. One more look up to the sky and it was starting to pour like cats and dogs. Darling lowered his head and closed his eyes. How stupid of him. How silly. They had been right. He should have stayed there until he was fully recovered at least. He was soaking wet by now with his hair clinging to his face in sticky curls.

Slowly he sank down to the ground, leaning to one of the old rusty fences all the houses here had in front of their entrance. This was unbearable. He was still breathing heavily and pulled his knees closer to his body, leaning his forehead onto them. Usually he would have had a back-up plan or at least any idea what to do. But it had been gone. Along with every last hope he had had in this world.

It was just like that day two weeks ago. He was hurt and alone. And his body just wouldn't stop shivering in the freezing coldness of the rain.

But then suddenly he felt an unknown warmth surrounding him and teared his eyes wide open in surprise. Lifting his head he noticed the rain was gone. At least around the spot he was sitting. He still could see it dripping onto the stone around him smudging the reflections of the light windows in the puddles. He turned his head a little more.

A black woolen coat hung around his shoulders. So this was what gave that little warmth right now.

His eyes wandered up. And he almost gasped looking into the face of Roger once more, who stood silently next to him just holding an umbrella over him to prevent the rain from hitting him. He didn't look angry though. He wore an almost pitiful look. And his white shirt covered by a waistcoat was soaking more and more. So this must be his coat Darling was wearing right now.

Darling didn't say anything, just stared at him suspiciously. And Roger didn't even attempt to say anything. The more surprised the young man was when he slowly sat down next to him, always careful to hold up that umbrella. He was staring straight ahead though.

Darling waited. What was this about? He stared at the street again too.

"Thanks," he mumbled quietly, pulling that coat a little closer to himself.

"I'm sorry," he heard Roger's voice silently and immediately turned to look at him from the corner of his eyes again. The older man didn't turn though.

"I never wanted to give you the feeling of being imprisoned," Roger spoke again. "And I shouldn't have screamed."

Darling didn't believe his ears. He didn't dare to move though. Too well did he know his temper by now and wasn't quite sure what to think about all of this.

"I-I shouldn't have gone into there," he answered then, hugging his legs a little more. "I-I just didn't expect anyone to notice."

"Maybe you should stop sneaking around then," Roger replied and Darling immediately felt his eyes on him.

He lifted his head and their eyes met.

"Because you're paying for my recovery. I know," Darling answered. "I will pay you back if that is your problem."

"It was wrong making you stay in there," Roger continued almost softly. "I just didn't want you to hurt yourself even more. And with that guy... I didn't expect him to do that."

"I'm sorry for that," darling replied hoarsely. "I guess I wrecked that night for you then."

"One more or less," the older man jeered slightly. "It doesn't matter."

"Why do you do it then?"

Roger chose not to answer and instantly Darling lost that little spark of boldness again. It wasn't his concern. He shouldn't ask that. And he was totally fine not to answer it.

They sat there silently beside each other for what seemed an eternity. Darling didn't know what to say. But he felt his nervousness vanish and all of a sudden he couldn't imagine any other place to be right now. It confused him even more. This was strange. But somehow it felt okay sitting in the rain with that awful guy.

"I guess you've searched for something to prove what kind of idiot I am," Roger said suddenly.

Darling looked at him with wide eyes and much to his surprise the older man smiled at him. Funny. He looked so different smiling. In a way much younger and almost handsome. Not even a shade of that grumpy arrogant loner he had been until now. It reminded Darling of that very first day again.

"How can you even live in there?" he asked then defiantly. "With all the space in the world."

"It used to be a storeroom," Roger replied calmly. "I moved in there because it was the one room that was far enough from my usual one."

"And why would you do that?" Darling asked trying to act indifferent. "To get away from your faithful infantry? To be something better by living apart?"

"Because the one who lives in my room right now seems to be scared of me," Roger replied. Darling's head almost whirled around to him once more. His eyes grew even wider. Roger was still smiling though.

"Which of course," he coughed slightly. "Is my fault. I know that. And I am sorry for that too. I guess we just had a bad start, don't you think?"

Darling didn't know what to say. He never expected this. Neither this conversation nor that guy being someone completely different within only a second.

"I never wanted to give you the feeling of not being welcome," Roger said once more. "And I still stick to my word. I still want to help you. If you let me, of course."

Darling gasped when Roger stretched out his hand in his direction. Just like he did before.

"Please come back with me," he continued softly. "I won't scream and I won't try to convince you to do anything. I just want you to get better. And maybe you can find a way to forgive me then before you leave."

Darling thought about it for a moment. But then it was as though someone else acted through him. He couldn't even explain it. His own hand almost magically moved towards Roger's and when he felt his touch a shiver ran down his spine. He sent a prayer up above not to let him notice.

Roger smiled even more though. Thus, he got up. He was soaking wet himself by now, but with an elegant lightness helped Darling up to his feet again. He stood there perplex. As hard as he wanted to he just couldn't turn his gaze away.

"Come on," Roger spoke again softly and offered him his arm.

Darling wanted to ignore it, but as he did his first step that painful traction shot through him again and made him almost sink down again. Roger caught him though quickly before he could fall. Gently, he lifted him up again and Darling immediately clasped his arm.

They walked slowly. Obviously Darling had run a good distance for they took several turns before the street he knew from the view of his – Roger's – window again. Darling didn't mind though. As much as his body had threatened to burst when he ran away, the more did he feel lighter and lighter on the way back. They didn't speak one word all the way. Darling simply hung there in his arms with his head leaned to Roger's shoulder, taking one careful step after the other. He had his face lowered though. Roger probably thought it was out of pain and embarrassment, but the truth was Darling didn't want him to see. To see his blushed face and the puzzling look on his face. And he hoped so much that damn heart-beat wouldn't give him away. He didn't understand it himself. It was so surreal and he couldn't understand at all why his whole being reacted that way all of a sudden. Only thing he knew was he was there. Feeling him, smelling him and being safe again. And he noticed he'd never liked the rain any more.

How embarrassing. He hoped no one would see them. And more than that he tried his very best to make it stop. He loathed that guy. He always had. And just because he chose to show a little humanity right now didn't change anything, did it?

 _~To be continued~_


	4. Elizabeth

**A/N: I struggled a little to get to the end of this, but now I kind of like it :) Hope you do too.**

 **Anyway, new part. Enjoy ;)**

* * *

„You're up early," Shirley said raising an eyebrow and handed a cup of coffee to Roger who stood in the kitchen door.

He rubbed his head and looked beyond tired. It was quite unusual to see him at that time of day. And he simply grunted wearily and took the cup out of her hands scuffling towards one of the chairs and let himself fall down lazily.

"And dressed too," She continued quietly, not able to hide the slight undertone of a smirk in her face. Even though she had her back turned on him again and concentrated on preparing the breakfast she'd noticed. "I never thought I'd see the day. May I ask for the occasion?"

"No occasion," Roger answered supporting his heavy head on his hands and sounding muffled. Yet he grinned at her slightly.

He felt as though someone had hit him on the head with something really heavy. This definitely wasn't his time of the day.

"I just thought I'd start to seize the day again," he spoke turning his head towards the huge window; staring into space.

"Had a long night again?" she asked.

Sloppily she threw a plate of scrambled eggs to the table and pushed it over to him before sitting down herself. Her eyes never left him and that hint of a smile which just wouldn't vanish was kind of disturbing.

"Not really," he answered and tried not to look at her.

"Lame one for a change?" Shirley grinned.

"No."

"What then?" she just wouldn't let go. "He took his heels and ran after he noticed the commitment issues and the lack of sensibility in your disturbed being?"

Roger's eyes shot up at her, but she was only laughing out loud seeing it. But somehow it was infectious. He couldn't help it.

"Not exactly," he grinned too, looking down and shaking his head. "But he did run indeed."

"What?" Shirley sat upright within a second, looking at him baffled. This was only meant as a joke.

"Apparently," Roger answered casually, leaning back. "He thought me taking sides wasn't exactly what he was looking for."

"You taking sides?"

Shirley and Roger turned their heads at the same time. The others were standing in the door-frame and obviously had gotten more of their conversation than they should have. And now they looked from Shirley to Roger and back, seemingly not sure what it meant Roger was here as well. Not at this time of the day. As a matter of fact he hadn't been joining them in a long time.

"Sit down," Shirley said quickly and got up, taking a few more plates out of the cupboard and placing them carefully on the table. "I don't like you standing around when everything's prepared already."

"Roger?" Brian grinned and sat down right in front of him. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Yes, why?" He was a little surprised by that question and lifted his eyebrows looking at his friend.

"Did you bump your head in that closet?" Kevin grinned as well. "Being up so early isn't exactly something we usually see from you."

"Well, I am now," he pulled a face at him mockingly. "So you better get used to it."

"Why so?" Scott joined cheerfully. "Are you planning to importune us more than once from now on?"

They all started to laugh. And Roger only looked baffled at them at first. But slowly he felt his mouth lifting into a cheap smile as well and quickly turned his gaze down again. He hadn't done this in a long time. And he couldn't really explain why.

He looked up to them again. They were already chittering with one another excitedly again. It was so much like old times. A normal thing. And himself in between, just as though he'd never pulled himself out of all this. It felt good. Roger only sat there and observed them. Once or twice someone would ask him something or simply smile at him. And it was then he noticed how much he'd missed them.

"Well, what have you planned for today then?" Kevin asked him suddenly. "Strolling the streets again?"

"No, I think I'll stay here and start to prepare some things," Roger answered, taking a sip from his cup.

He noticed Kevin's blank face that very moment of course.

"What?" he grinned. "Production starts again in a few days and I've dawdled around enough."

He suppressed a grin and instead just closed his eyes while his four roommates exchanged shocked looks. He knew what they were thinking. And he knew very well they all had to leave to run some errands today as well.

Then, Shirley got up slowly; almost hesitantly never leaving Roger out of sight. She forced herself to smile at him again, probably hoping he hadn't noticed.

"Well, it's a good thing you're remembering it," She tried her very best to sound normal. "Will you excuse me though? I'm gonna go and bring some breakfast up to our guest then."

She hurried to fill yet another plate and was almost out of the kitchen, when Roger started to laugh silently.

"What's so funny?" Brian asked, wondering about it.

"Why don't you call him down already?" Roger answered still chuckling and looked up at them again and crossing his arms while leaning back casually.

"What do you...," Shirley started, but Roger was quicker.

He turned and focused her with a smile on his face.

"I know you've been letting him wander around," he said calmly. "So please, just call him down and let's quit this silly _'hide and seek'_ game."

The four of them kept staring at him in disbelief. And as usual they acted as though they were just one person and made it look more hilarious than anything else. Roger lowered his gaze and took another sip only to prevent himself from roaring with laughter. He remained where he was almost motionless although on the inside he felt like screaming. They really didn't expect him to know, even though they'd never once managed to keep anything happening in this house a secret. And, much more than his, he felt curiously shaky all of a sudden. He'd never been here when they'd let Darling roam around and despite the unexpected clash of the previous night a strange sort of excitement arose somewhere in the deepest corner of his mind thinking about being in the same room with their young guest once more.

Roger shook his head slightly, took a deep breath and swallowed a little more coffee just to suffocate that thought while it was more a dimming ember than an actual spark of realization. This was stupid. He'd only admitted it had been a mistake to expect Darling to stay in that room; nothing more. So there was no point in feeling nervous about it now. He'd simply spend half an hour with that boy and the others down here and then start his work. He didn't even have to say much. So why not.

Shirley coughed once and slowly kept on turning. She glared over at Brian but he just shrugged.

"I...er...I will help her," he stuttered looking at Roger a little uncertain, but then followed her as quickly as his feet carried him.

Roger looked after them and shook his head. He laughed silently. Obviously everyone else was as surprised as himself.

"What's gotten into him?" Brian asked, shoving Shirley away with him. "He avoided seeing Darling whenever possible. And now he allows him to come down?"

"I don't know," Shirley shrugged. "But didn't you notice? He knew we'd let him walk around every day. What strikes me more is that he's not mad at all."

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "What is happening here?"

They arrived at the stairs and looked at each other again. They weren't really sure what to do. What if Roger just wanted to test them? What if he started getting angry once Darling came out of that room? But then again, when had Roger ever done something like that?

But his behavior had been more than strange that morning.

"Erm...Darling?" Shirley yelled hesitantly, always keeping the kitchen door in sight.

But Roger didn't appear. So maybe he really meant it.

They heard a door opening though and only seconds later Darling appeared at the top of the stairs, waving a cheerful _Good Morning_ to them. As usual he moved very quietly though.

"Er...you...you can come down now," Brian finished, looking from Shirley to Darling. He was kind of clueless about what to do or what to say to him.

The young man on the other hand nodded and started to come down to them. He surely was certain everything was alright as he elegantly nearly dance-like slid down the stairs in their direction. He seemed to notice their unbelieving stares though and stopped in front of them. He looked from one to the other and raised his eyebrows.

"Is...is everything alright?" he asked a little uncertain.

Shirley inhaled and looked like she wanted to reply anything, but quickly put her hand over her mouth and breathed out again through her nose. She turned to Brian and her eyes literally screamed for help. Brian on the other hand stared at her questioningly for a moment, before hastily his head shot in Darling's direction again.

"Everything's just fine," he smiled but it must have looked more than awkward for Darling didn't seem convinced.

"Listen," Shirley sighed finally. She stepped a little closer and put her hands on the young man's shoulders. "Don't panic, okay?"

"And don't run!" Brian jumped in as they pushed Darling slowly closer to the kitchen.

"And don't scream," Shirley added. "Be just who you always are!"

"And most of all..."

"Just stay calm!"

"What?" Darling tried to cast a look at them over his shoulder, but somehow he was already standing in the door-frame of the kitchen. They never acted that way before and even though he knew all of them were a little crazy, this was definitely new. Plus, he couldn't get what they wanted to tell him through all scraps of conversation. "What the hell are you talking about? What is going on?"

He'd managed to stop and stem himself against them, turning around to face them. But Brian already slapped his hand to his face and lowered his head. Shirley clenched her teeth and raised her index finger to point at the kitchen table without a sound. Darling narrowed his eyes at them. He'd expected to get a little more as an answer than a pantomimic gesture. But then he turned around and almost fell out of the door again. He gasped once and teared open his eyes. Immediately his body stiffened and he pulled his shoulders up a little to stand straight.

Roger and the others had watched that scene silently and their eyes were fixated on him. And as soon as Darling got that little fact Roger started to chuckle slightly. Secretly he'd been hoping for a reaction like that.

Darling on the other hand stood there petrified. And after a moment Roger was quite certain he wouldn't dare to move a bit unless someone finally said something. He shook his head and closed his eyes, laughing silently. Then he grabbed his cup again and gently kicked the chair next to him a little away from the table. He opened his eyes again and smiled broadly at their young guest. Leaning back a little to show he was quite relaxed about all this he tilted his head a little and raised his brows, pointing at the chair.

And he could easily see Darling taking a deep breath. Well, first step done. The kid was breathing again after all. What a great misfortune this would have been to risk a cold in the pouring rain one night before and getting him back well only to see him suffocate from the next day from seeing him there.

Roger had to grin at this thought.

"Come on," he heard Kevin say compassionately and when he turned to look at him, he saw him gesturing carefully in Darling's direction. "It's okay."

Roger couldn't hold back now. He started to giggle silently but then it grew to be a loud masculine laughter, causing everyone to look at him in an instance.

"Are you serious?" he asked Brian, wiping some tears of laughter out of his eyes. "He's not a dog! Stop pretending he's a scared little child."

"But Roger...," Kevin answered baffled and let his hands fall.

"No, he's right," Scott said and Kevin quickly raised his head to look at him. He stood next to Roger leaned to the wall and had his arms crossed, acting pretty amused about the whole situation. "It's what I've told you before. He can decide for himself."

Roger smiled at him and turned to face Darling once more.

"Listen, it's somewhat uncomfortable having to turn every time," he smiled. "So if you like... Sit down."

Darling still just stared at him as though he didn't know whether to trust that sudden change in mood or not. But then he took another breath and straightened up. Slowly he started to move, never letting Roger out of sight. And for once he really looked like a shy animal as he approached him with as much attention as he could find. When he finally reached the chair he stopped again shortly and their eyes met. Roger still smiled at him in an amused way and shrugged slightly.

"Your choice," he said and took another uninterested sip from his cup.

So, slowly Darling pulled that chair up a little more and sat down beside the man he couldn't grasp still. He didn't say a word though and just lowered his glare. He felt Roger move away a little and suddenly all of this felt less strange. He lifted his head slightly, but that weird guy had already started to talk to Scott once more and ignored him now. One by one the others joined them as well and soon they sat in a big round and talked about everything that crossed their mind. They laughed and chatted and somehow it appeared they all admitted Darling to their little group as though it was the most natural thing in the world. It was almost as though he'd been there much longer than two weeks and somehow it felt familiar and warm. Darling noticed in surprise. It had been a long time since he'd last felt like that and even though he could hardly join their conversations – and didn't really want to while that Roger was there for that matter – he listened to everything and absorbed every word. He'd lost every experience as close to a family as these five people and felt strangely touched they sort of invited him in without wasting any words about it. But there they were. It wasn't strange to them to have him here and they seemed to accept the fact they knew absolutely nothing about him. And for the first time in a long period a small whisper in the farthest corner of his head dared to breathe the idea of being safe into him. He lowered his gaze and smiled to himself realizing it. This was crazy. And impossible. And yet it was there. That feeling. How very strange.

"So Darling," he heard Shirley's voice and as though shaken awake he lifted his head to look at her with his huge eyes.

She smiled. Did she ask something? He hadn't noticed at all.

"Will you be okay staying alone for a while?" she asked compassionately.

Darling didn't respond at first but stared at her questioningly.

"Are you leaving?" he asked shyly noticing of course she expected an answer.

"Oh honey you sure let your thoughts wander," she smiled warmly. "We will start working again in a couple of days. But obviously you didn't get that."

"You work?" He almost felt a little stupid for that question. They must have talked about it, but either he didn't get it or he had been way too lost in his own mind somehow.

Brian on the other hand started to laugh. Darling sensed their eyes on him and lowered his gaze again.

"Of course we are," Kevin answered after a while, but sounded more amused than accusing. "We have to make a living too. Just like everybody else."

"What about you?" Scott asked. "Do you work?"

Darling raised his head in his direction. What was that? Some kind of trick to find out about him? Immediately the suspicion was back. But then no. They never seemed to be like that. Usually they were straight ahead with questions of any kind. So what should he answer? Quickly his roamed through any possibility of them getting to know too much if he told the truth.

"I-I don't," he mumbled then and suddenly felt embarrassed. He knew they were still staring at him and maybe it was kind of strange for someone of his age not to do anything. But on the other hand he couldn't explain any more really. "Maybe... once I am able to use my arm again I'll search for something."

"Means you never have?" Kevin asked in disbelief. "Wow. How boring is that?"

"I never had to," Darling answered but bid his lips quickly, wishing those words hadn't slipped his mouth. Too much information.

"But you weren't one of those street-kids who stole to survive, were you?" he heard Shirley's voice and within only a second his head shot up to look at her in shock.

"Street-kid?" he whispered more to himself but knew immediately they must have heard. Their faces changed and looked so much more serious nigh pitying now.

"Do you really have nowhere to go?" Shirley asked silently and gently reached for his hand but Darling quickly pulled it away and sat upright once more.

He swallowed hard and immediately looked over at Scott who threw his hands up in the air shaking his head. So he had told them about their little argument the other day. He'd hoped so much he wouldn't. And in an instance Darling wanted to smack himself for having gotten blinded himself by their kindness just a minute ago. Of course they would ask questions. Of course there was no way he would be safe here. Not if they knew. And he was very well aware he couldn't keep this _'Not-Talking-Game'_ for all eternity.

"That's enough now!"

Not believing what he'd just heard Darling's head turned slowly; his eyes wide. All of the others turned as well. Roger put his cup down to the table again and got up.

"I think you all got plenty to do today so why don't you just get started?" he said calmly.

They all turned their head to him and it looked more as though they froze hearing it than a real reaction. But then all of them started to nod and as though nothing had happened they got up and collected whatever they needed right now before vanishing out of the kitchen, chatting already again about whatever they had to do.

Darling watched the whole scene with one eyebrow raised. Try as he might he still couldn't get used to their indifference which up to a certain point could easily pass as obedient ignorance whenever that guy said anything. His influence was unbelievable. He got up and walked to the door as well, looking after them.

Then he heard a slight cough behind him and just then noticed he was alone with him now. Slowly turning around once more he found Roger sitting there still totally unimpressed, scrolling through some papers Kevin had put in front of him.

Darling took a deep breath and straightened up again.

"You didn't tell them?" he asked almost not audible.

But the moment Roger turned to face him he quickly lowered his gaze again. His face blushed.

"I don't think they must know everything," Roger smiled slightly. "And you surely didn't want any more questions, did you?"

Darling jeered slightly. Now what did this mean? But much to his surprise Roger seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Almost as though he was able to read him like an open book.

"I figured you don't want to tell what happened to you," Roger said in an amazingly calm voice, yet he seemed pretty amused still as he turned back to his papers. "And believe me they never would have stopped if they knew about last night."

Darling listened to his words and felt confused. He noticed. For a moment he seriously started to wonder whether that man was really up to nothing and just guessed pretty good or not. It seemed he knew everything Darling never wanted to talk about though. He wanted to reply something but didn't get as far for Brian's screeching voice sounded through the large hallway once more.

"Roger?"

The tall man got up without replying and walked to the door, stopping frighteningly close next to Darling. He tried to back away a little, but the frame was in his way. He looked away quickly but Roger didn't seem to notice at all. He simply bent forward a little until he was able to see his four roommates faces. They stood in the farthest corner of the hallway already sporting their coats and bags; ready to leave.

"You sure you won't come along?" Brian asked once he caught his eye.

"No, don't you worry," Roger grinned. "Just go on. I'll get along."

A little uncertain all of them shared some confused looks at one another.

"So please try not to kill each other," Kevin added hesitantly, waiting for Darling to turn a little too so they could see him.

Darling teared his eyes wide open in outrage. But as soon as he wanted to reply something he felt a hand on his shoulder, patting it gently.

"Don't worry," Roger smiled at them carelessly. "We'll keep out of our way."

Darling's head shot up to him.

"Right?" Roger winked at him and spoke so quietly they couldn't have heard that last bit. And from what Darling was able to evaluate they weren't supposed to anyway.

He raised one eyebrow but quickly closed his eyes, turning his face away.

"Alright," Kevin said seeing it.

He didn't sound convinced. As well as the others. But they slowly turned and with knowing looks they left the house.

As soon as the door flung shut, Roger let go of Darling and exhaled deeply. He straightened up a little and without a word moved back into the kitchen. He threw away the remains on the plate Shirley had handed him and with one very feminine move pushed the chair back underneath the kitchen table before passing Darling once more with huge steps. He didn't say a word but acted as though he wasn't even there. Darling witnessed it for a moment, but then decided it was no use to stand there any longer. He had to face it. He was alone with that guy for a day and it didn't seem Roger was going to go anywhere today.

The young man sighed slightly and slowly moved towards the stairs. It meant facing a day in that room and he wasn't really too keen to be there. But actually there was not much he could do about it right now.

He already had one foot on the stairs when he heard Roger's voice again.

"Where are you going?"

He stood in the door of the living room, looking after him questioningly.

"Me? Uh...Up?" Darling answered a little uncertain. "You said I..."

"If I remember right I said it was stupid of me to demand such a thing," Roger laughed and it almost gave Darling goosebumps for a moment. "Just look around," the taller man winked at him once more. "Until you leave it's your house as well. No more staying up there all day. But please be careful!"

Thus he vanished insight the room again. Darling remained where he was for a couple of seconds not knowing if he really got that right. This was definitely new. He hadn't quite believed in that sudden change of mind until now, but somehow that Roger was different all of a sudden. Still Darling feared he had to be careful. Who knew what this was about.

But then he shrugged.

Thinking about it he might as well give it a try. After all everything was better than being locked up in that room again. Or remaining on the stairs the whole day. At least while he had to stay in this strange place. So, he walked up the stairs and along the long corridors. Looking around slowly he tried to remember everything as good as possible. All the marble white stone made it somehow hard to keep orientation.

"A little color, that's what this place needs," Darling thought again by himself and shook his head again.

All the light porcelain vases and sculptures didn't help much either. This was like walking a maze. Once or twice he passed some huge modern art paintings. They didn't tell him much if he was honest. Only a bunch of splodges and mainly held in white and different shades of gray as well. In a way everything looked pretty noble and clean. Sterile even. Exactly how every rich person would live. Up to date. Just as people would expect of someone like Roger. But then again it was terribly impersonal. No soul, no heart. Nothing that indicated five very different people shared this house and nothing which told him who they were exactly.

Darling sighed. He kept asking himself why he'd expected anything else. From what he had learned everything in here went the way Roger wanted it. And even though Kevin, Scott, Brian and Shirley were pretty nice they didn't really add something of their own. Probably out of fear. Or out of stagnation. Whatever it was Darling began to wonder why they ended up here. He'd secretly hoped they would have told him a little more, but then again they'd have asked him a lot more in return for sure.

Slowly he continued his little sight-seeing tour. He walked along the corridor he knew by heart now and only stopped shortly looking into the room he'd been living in for the past few weeks now dreamily.

His room...

He felt strange imagining he was occupying the place Roger usually lived in now. Maybe that's why he couldn't get him out of his head. Everything in there literally screamed his name. It had become clear the moment Roger had told him.

Darling crossed his arms, suddenly feeling cold. He looked around. Even the shirt he wore wasn't his own. He'd rolled up the sleeves to make it fit a little more and usually wore a belt a little over his waistline for it was way too large for him. It even smelled different.

"This ain't my home," he thought by himself. And he knew the moment it crossed his mind it was true. As much as they tried – and heaven knew even Roger gave it his best shot right now – he couldn't possibly feel as though he belonged. This was his house. His mates. His room. Probably even his clothes. And the pure thought of it made him feel even more uneasy somehow.

For somewhere deep within that small connection he had with that man agreeing to come here grew more. He could feel it and he tried so hard not to let it get out of hand. He simply couldn't become one of them. What good was this anyway?

Carefully Darling stepped into that white cage. He closed his eyes and listened closely. Nothing. Roger made no sound and if he didn't know better he'd sworn he wasn't even there.

He inhaled deeply. This was him. He should have noticed from the very beginning. Everything in hat room smelled like him. Or maybe it was the other way round; he couldn't tell.

And then his heartbeat kind of woke him again from his reverie. Quickly Darling put his palm on his chest just as though it would change anything. He opened his eyes again and stared at his own hand in disbelief. Why was he reacting like that all the time? He'd been thinking about it a lot ever since Roger had miraculously managed to convince him to come back here. This was disturbing. His whole body starting to tremble whenever he thought about him was definitely new to him. Maybe it was that strange fright he felt whenever Roger was around. But then again, he'd known fear. And it wasn't the same.

"Maybe all I need is to calm down. That's all," he thought; half doubtful about his own words. "After all I can compete with him. I won't break like all of them did."

He looked around determinedly. All he needed was to surpass the intimidation of that man. To bury his eyes in his head. And then, surely, nothing as simple as his scent would start that reaction again.

Darling marched towards the huge white closet opposite the bed. Facing his demons; that's what he needed to do. It was as easy as that.

He opened the cabinet doors and stared at the unbelievable amount of clothes. This was Roger. All of this. He recognized the smell in an instance. His heart hammered against his chest immediately, but he quickly shook his head. This was only because he knew he shouldn't do that. The excitement one felt whenever something was forbidden. Nothing more.

He turned around once more just as though he feared someone might watching him, but then he started to roam through this huge amount of shirts and other clothes. His movements became quicker. There must be some way to get used to this. He didn't even know what it was exactly what he was searching for but he felt himself getting more and more desperate. This had got to stop. He had to make it stop.

But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Darling realized it after a while too. And as soon as that realization sank into him he stopped, slowly sinking to his knees. He lowered his head. This just couldn't be. There must be a way to get over this phase. And yes, he had to call it a phase. Something new. Born out of this strange place and the fact he knew nothing about that man who had been so keen on helping him out there.

Darling lifted his head once more, staring at the closet. It had been a mistake. Agreeing to come with Roger had been wrong. And now he felt like he was losing himself. Probably more than ever before. And worst of all he wasn't able to explain it to anyone.

Staring straight ahead he tried hard to think about what to do now. He couldn't possible hide forever. And by all means he couldn't tell them. About himself. About all the things he wanted to forget himself.

But then his eyes met a little purple looking spot right behind all these white shirts. Somewhere at the farthest end of that closet. It shone through it and all the white seemed to reflect it even more. Darling narrowed his eyes. What the heck was this?

Slowly he crawled a little closer. He slowly pushed away the shirts a little and for a moment didn't believe his eyes. This was a canvas. Paintings?

Darling quickly got up and pushed the clothes away a little more.

No, this wasn't just one. At least a dozen paintings were hidden behind that facade of noble looking clothes. Darling shook his head in disbelief. Why would someone hide them? He tried to grab one of them but pulling them out of there appeared to be harder than expected with only one arm. But he didn't give up. This was way too peculiar. One by one he pulled them out of there and arranged them around himself in the room. It took him a long time, but finally he turned around and looked at all of them. He couldn't believe it. A wide grin spread all over his face.

They were fantastic. All of them portrait people. Mostly in a very abstract way and all of them held in different colors. Darling wasn't able to turn his gaze away. They surrounded him. It was like walking in another world. He simply couldn't get enough of them. Every single one of them told another story. It was like watching the story of someone. With every up and down. Happy moments. Memories. Even despair. It was all there. Right in front of him.

Darling's smile didn't vanish. Slowly he sat down in the middle of that circle of paintings he'd created. This was amazing. He hadn't felt like that in a long time.

It was then a large canvas mostly held in purple caught his attention. Darling's eyes grew wider. Two pastel blue characters were to be seen on it. Entwined to each other and almost floating through that purple ocean around them. It was only them.

And suddenly Darling held his breath. An unbelievable wave of calmness ran through him. There could have been a million eyes around them, they only had eyes for each other. Even though no faces had been painted clearly Darling could feel it. This was like watching two lovers. The world didn't matter to them. Nor did anything that had happened. They were the only beings alive and they were so light. So graceful.

"They're dancing," Darling murmured and his smile became softer. He was certain he'd never seen anything as beautiful. He imagined them being madly in love. They'd probably met as strangers somewhere in this world and had been drawn to each other in an instance. Like magic. If there was something like love at first sight, they'd experienced it for sure.

His eyes wandered down to the left corner of the picture. He needed to know the name of that painter. He'd never seen anything like it.

"Elizabeth?" he read out loud baffled. That was all. Nothing more. No year. No surname. Just _'Elizabeth'_. How strange. He'd never heard of that painter before.

"Yeah, Elizabeth," he heard a voice behind him and whirled around, being ripped out of this feeling immediately. Darling's heart sank that instance.

Roger leaned against the door-frame and stared at the pictures as well.

Damn, he didn't even hear him coming up. And the very next second Darling only realized he had been roaming through his stuff without permission. And as if stung by an adder he was up to his feet again, giving Roger an almost frightened look.

"I...er...I didn't mean...This was just...," he stammered, but Roger slowly came closer and much to Darling's surprise he smiled softly.

"I haven't seen them in many years," he said calmly and sat down at the edge of the bed close to Darling, looking at them carefully as well. "I'd almost forgotten about them."

Darling watched him carefully and was surprised about the almost sentimental smile Roger gave them. He figured the older man must have some emotional connection to them. At least everything in his behavior pointed that way.

"I'm sorry," Darling started silently, lowering his gaze again. "I shouldn't have rummaged in your stuff."

"Never mind," Roger didn't look at him but kept his eyes fixated on the paintings.

This was definitely new. No screaming. No outrage. Hardly any reaction. He simply kept on smiling. Darling didn't know what this meant, but slowly he relaxed a little. He turned towards them again too. And for a slight second he wondered what exactly Roger saw in them.

"Do you like art?" he heard him ask.

"A lot," Darling replied, staring at the two dancers again. "I used to love scrolling through books of paintings in my father's library. And I secretly collected colorful paintings like these whenever I could find some."

He smiled slightly, but only a second later Darling noticed what had just slipped his mouth. His eyes widened in shock and is head whirled around to Roger. The older man looked at him and smiled widely. He had said too much. Darling could slap himself for having done that. He quickly stepped away a few steps. Why did he do this?

But Roger lifted his hands slightly, gesturing him to relax.

"Calm down," his soft voice replied. "Nothing happened."

Darling took a deep breath though. He'd noticed. Of course. But why didn't any questions follow? Why the hell did he say that?

Roger got up from the bed slowly and knelt down in front of the two dancers.

"Come here," he said calmly, stretching one hand in Darling's direction.

The young man instinctively backed away a little more.

"I'm not going to bite you," Roger laughed. "Come on."

Swallowing hard Darling slowly, very slowly, stepped a little closer and without looking at Roger carefully knelt down next to him; his gaze fixating the floor. Roger didn't move.

"What do you see in them?" the older man asked.

Darling lifted his head slightly and stared at the two painted figures again. What was that about? He couldn't honestly want him to spare his thoughts about it right now. He looked at Roger from the corner of his eyes, who was still smiling.

"They dance," Darling replied silently. "Without caring for anything. Just floating along."

"Who do you think they are?"

"Lovers..."

"Lovers, hm?" Roger laughed slightly.

"I imagine they were lost," Darling went on, hoping hard he wouldn't notice his blushed face. He concentrated hard to look at the painting. "Lost somewhere in the chaos of this world until the darkness around them lightened, because..."

"Because?" Roger asked softly, his face turned to Darling.

"Because," he took a deep breath. "because they found each other. Something worth living for. Something eternal. And they share that happiness they thought wouldn't exist in that first dance. Completely as one and embracing the world for once."

He stopped. He'd never thought to have a conversation like that. And he seriously wondered why he even shared this with Roger. But he couldn't take it back now.

"Who do you think they are?" Darling asked in return.

But somehow Roger chose not to answer that.

"You secretly collected them, hm?" Roger spoke again after a while. "Was it to hide what you knew deep within already?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh please," Roger laughed out loud and the very next moment moved frighteningly close to Darling and cupped his cheek with his hand. "Don't insult me. People like me...we recognize one another."

Darling blushed even more and his eyes grew to a new size. But this time he didn't turn his gaze away. This was unbelievable.

"You knew?" Darling asked as if out of his mind. He'd hoped no one would notice but just then realized how stupid that had been too. He couldn't disguise what he was. And surely they were the last people to give a damn about it. He should have known.

"From the very beginning," Roger answered and let go of his face. "Don't hide it. It's your color really. Everyone of us _'fairies'_ has one. And yours is shining so brightly in you, every little movement you make was a hint. I've mine too. As well as every other homosexual does. I've just forgotten a lot about mine. That picture for example... I've forgotten."

"Why did you hide them?" Darling asked almost shyly.

"Ah, let's say they remind me too much of a period I tried to bury in my memory," Roger responded and sort of sighed deeply. "I tried to make a living with them. And I put every hope I had into them but it didn't work out as planned."

Darling didn't believe his ears. He stared at Roger who looked straight ahead again, stroking over the rough surface of that canvas.

"You painted them?" he asked in disbelief.

"When I was much younger," Roger nodded. "I lived with my mother still back then. But sadly enough I wasn't exactly what you could call lucky. It wasn't really lucrative to put it better. Unfortunately I wouldn't listen to anyone around me. And then my mother got sick. Really sick. And I had to care for her."

"So you stopped it?" Darling asked, hanging on his lips.

But Roger shook his head.

"I didn't," he answered. "She begged me to let someone else take care of her. To give her into the hands of a hospital or at least someone who knew what to do. But I was stubborn and dumb. My siblings moved out of town and didn't want any contact to me after they'd found out about my...immoral behavior. And my father left us when we were only kids. As you can imagine I couldn't afford any treatment for her and convinced enough of myself in that teenage stubbornness, I still kept on trying."

Darling could imagine suddenly what was going to come next.

"She died," Roger continued and turned to smile at Darling once more, but this time it was much sadder than before. " And I was shattered. My brother and sister...they still blame me up to this day. I fell into a deep despair then, realizing what I had done being that stubborn. If only I'd taken some help. From anyone. My former partner for example. He offered his help so many times but I always denied I needed it. It didn't take long and he lost all patience with me after my mother's death. A desperate self-loathing child. That's what he called me. And he made it perfectly clear he couldn't put any more effort in a relationship that had been bound to lose from the beginning. So I lost him too. It was then I decided to give up on that dream. And until today I've never dared to look at these pictures again. If I'd listened to my mother in the first place I surely would have been able to do the right thing. But actually, in a way...it was me who killed her."

He stopped, lowering his head. A hint of sadness covered his intimidating appearance for once. Something Darling hadn't seen on him before. And strangely enough he felt sorry for him all of a sudden. A feeling that almost teared him apart. He wanted to hold him right now. So badly. But as much as his heart longed for it that very moment the more reason told him not to move. Not a bit.

"I'm sorry," he whispered then.

"No need to be," Roger turned to him and gave him a soft look. "I just never thought someone would really like to look at them. That's all."

"They are fabulous," Darling answered, staring straight ahead.

The two dancers continued their dreamy movements despite what they had just heard. They still had only eyes for one another.

"Take it," Roger said suddenly, causing Darling to turn around once more.

"What?"

"If you like it that much I'll give it to you," he smiled. "Maybe it helps you trusting me a little more. After all you know a part of me now I never wanted to tell anyone as well."

Darling looked back at him as though he didn't believe the whole situation being true.

"And don't worry about that little bit you've told me," Roger winked at him, smiling cheerfully again. "I won't tell."

"Why Elizabeth?" Darling asked in return and without thinking about it. Maybe it was more to avoid having to talk about his little blooper any more.

"The name of my mother," Roger grinned. "I signed all of them like that. Just to keep in mind whom I did this for."

Darling suddenly smirked.

"What's so funny," Roger asked amused.

"This makes so much more sense," Darling answered and lifted his eyebrows playfully. "than imagining _'Roger Elizabeth Debris'_."

Roger blinked twice but then started to laugh out loud. A laughter which was infecting. Darling joined him after a few seconds. He couldn't help it.

All the anxiety he'd felt before was gone that very moment. He'd never imagined it. But somehow Roger had a way in calming him down a lot and now... In his wildest dreams he didn't imagine to sit here on the floor with this man, laughing loudly about a stupid notion like that.

"I like that," Roger said trying to catch his breath and wiping over his eyes with one hand. "Maybe I should keep that. It would kill them at the next choreographer's ball for sure."

Darling listened to him and smiled. One look at the canvas was enough to agree with that guy for once.

"You definitely should," he said. "It's like carrying a part of your legacy."

Roger leaned back casually only supporting his body with his arms stemmed to the ground, listening closely.

"And you shouldn't hide them," Darling said as while that wave of courage towards him still lasted. "They are you in a way. And they are fantastic. Hang them up. People need to see them. And this house could really use their bright colors."

Roger smirked.

"Why don't you do it?" he asked then, causing Darling to turn again in surprise. "I'm pretty sure you'll find the best places for them. I'll help you since you're a little challenged still."

Darling blinked once. Did he really mean that? But then he smiled slightly and nodded once.

"I'd love to," he answered silently.

So, Roger nodded and got up, helping Darling up by pulling him gently to his feet as well.

"Then let's get started," he said.

And while Roger was already about to carry the huge paintings into the hallway, Darling still stared at him. He couldn't get it. How could someone be so different in such a short time? Or had he been like that from the start? Maybe he had just not been able to see it. Or maybe he just tried hard to behave in front of him now.

"One question though," Darling stopped him.

Roger turned around to face him again.

"What revealed me?" Darling grinned at him mischievously. "I mean how did you recognize? Just that color you spoke about?"

Roger laughed shortly.

"That," he answered and turned to move on with just another picture under his arm. "And the fact you blush every time I'm close to you."

Darling's eyes widened while Roger disappeared in the hallway.

 _~To be continued~_


	5. Of Witches and Pirates

**A/N: Long time... I am sorry. I didn't feel much like writing for a longer period of time. Anyway blabla... I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It took me forever (literally!)**

* * *

He watched him stretch his body while trying to hang up the huge canvas. It looked exhausting. He saw little welding beads on his forehead and he did roll up his sleeves after a while; the best indication Darling was right. It made him feel curiously embarrassed somehow. Partly, because he really felt so useless right away. He'd never liked people doing simple things for him in the first place and since this was something -the first thing, really- Roger had openly and without hesitation allowed him to do, in a house which he would probably not see again in a couple of weeks and it was in a way extraordinary to him. So, not being able to help in the slightest was disturbing. And then because he caught himself every other minute staring at the tall man. He tried so hard not to do it but somehow wasn't really able to control himself. It was just like his eyes developed a will of their own. And the more he tried, he just couldn't grasp why.

He wasn't interested in him. Hell, he would never think of anything like that. Especially not with the pain of what had happened still lingering inside of him like a poisonous disease. And even though Roger knew now -or probably had known already days ago- he was gay as well, Darling had never been the person to look at other men in such an obvious way. Not really surprising, since he'd spent most of the time finding himself in the closet; hiding it from everyone in fear the wrong people might notice. So, what was that about?

Darling looked up slightly and only lifted his head so much he could fixate that Roger DeBris once more with the possibility to turn and pretend to having done something completely different, just in case he'd notice.

 _"Why does this happen whenever I'm close to him?"_ he thought and tried to listen inside himself in search for an answer. A little hint. Even the smallest clue his body might gave him to evaluate this.

One thing was crystal-clear though. Something about that man was intriguing. Why? He had not the slightest idea. And true, Roger acted so different all of a sudden. Ever since that night in the streets Roger either tried very hard to get a grip on his temper or maybe – and this was the strangest kind of maybe – this was how he really was. But did Darling really misjudged him that much? He wasn't sure. And it confused him a lot, if he was honest.

"I guess that's it," he heard Roger say and his voice ripped Darling out of his puzzling.

Roger stepped back from that wall a little and stopped next to the younger man. He looked pleased. With himself in a way. It suited him. And the picture Darling had gotten of him in the first place. But then again, he wasn't really doing anything for himself right now, was he?

"You were right. It really looks good in here," Roger said.

Darling knew he was winking at him. He saw it from his peripheral view but stood there frozen. He couldn't turn and look at him. He knew perfectly well that embarrassing blush would return in a heartbeat. And no. If he ever wanted to gain back control this definitely needed to stop.

Instead he stared straight ahead. The two dancers were almost fluidly floating along the plain wall and their light was cutting a huge scar through the sterility of that snow-white prison.

Darling loved it. He immediately started to grin slightly again imagining it. But before he could even lose himself in that surreal world of a few brushstrokes that magically managed to imitate it so perfectly, he noticed his mouth mumbling the words he never would have dared to say out loud outside of this delirium.

"Just what I meant. Color brings more warmth into this house."

Only seconds later his words reached his brain though and Darling's eyes widened in an instance as his head whirled around. Roger was smirking though; his eyes almost softly resting on him.

"I...ugh... I didn't mean...," Darling tried to explain but his mind went completely blank that very moment. Shit. Why did he say that? It was not up to him to judge Roger's home in any way.

"Don't worry that much," Roger spoke after a while, still looking pretty amused. "You can speak freely around me too. I won't rip your head off."

Darling held his breath and then slowly lifted his head. And for the first time since he got here, their eyes met.

How long they stared at each other, none of them could actually tell. But somehow Darling for once felt completely calm that moment.

Roger still smiled. And he held that stare. Why wouldn't he turn his gaze away? And what was so funny? Was he laughing at him? Was he seeing him as some sort of silly child, talking nothing but nonsense?

"I...uh...I just think," he hesitated and turned his head away again. The grip on his bandaged arm tightened more and more. Damn. Why was this so hard? "I-I think all this white in white looks a bit..."

"Too modern? Too clean?" Roger asked baffled, turning his head around. "Too much unlike what you'd expect?"

"Cold," Darling only whispered and instinctively ducked away a little, just as if he'd expected some harsh reaction after giving away his opinion so freely.

Roger didn't move a muscle while his eyes fixated on the young man before him. Was that how he saw him? He turned his head and slowly looked around. It was true. These pictures looked like someone had spilled a paint pot accidentally and the colorful dots shone like rainbows through the icy atmosphere the house created. Suddenly all the rest looked so sterile; so empty... So...

Roger sighed. Cold. Bitter. In a way even icy. Darling was right. He'd never noticed it before but it was there now and he couldn't possibly ignore it.

"So, I am cold?" Roger closed his eyes and smiled; more to himself though.

"I didn't say that," Darling fired away immediately and Roger was surprised to find his brown eyes almost piercing him right away. It was the first time he seemed concerned about what Roger might thought. It took Darling only a second to realize it as well and quickly he backed away a little, holding his bandaged arm and lowering his gaze again. "It's just... You...You appear so...different at times."

That was a hard thing to tell him. Roger could see it. His body language was more than obvious.

Roger turned away and shook his head slightly. Funny. Why did this strike him? Darling had every right to think that. After all, he had been moody and grumpy ever since the boy came to live with them. Why was this such a hard thing to hear then all of a sudden? Did he want Darling to see him differently? This was strange.

He coughed slightly and turned around. Darling followed him with his eyes. He was certain this had been the little step too far. Roger would turn and leave him again, which in case wouldn't probably be the worst thing that could happen. But on the other hand he didn't really mean to insult him, even though he still didn't trust him.

So, Darling sighed and turned away as well. All this trying to verbalize his thoughts led to nothing. He shouldn't have started it. What was he thinking anyway? He couldn't even sort out the mess in his head himself, so how was he supposed to talk something into this guy just like that? They didn't know each other. Strangely enough they wouldn't even have looked at each other if it hadn't been for him accidentally bumping into Roger in the streets when he wasn't paying attention. So, how could he even dare to think they were on the same level other than just standing under the same roof?

Darling's gaze wandered over to the huge window. He glanced through the glass and saw the green of the tree-tops in the courtyard behind the house. They almost looked like they were stroking the roofs of the noble houses in the distance, which kind of built a wall between him and a straight view at the city. And as much as he tried, he could only make out a few of the huge buildings behind it. Manhattan was distant. It was strange. And most importantly it was something he'd never get used to.

And suddenly he felt cold. It didn't matter where he went or what he did. He'd be a stranger everywhere. Be it with the people in this house, who had been nothing but kind to him until now or that city, which he'd never gotten the chance to get to know a little better.

Darling slowly shook his head again, closing his eyes... Or Roger. It was all the same. They were strangers. They didn't know each other and, as hard as they might tried, they wouldn't find a way to change it.

"You like the city?"

Roger's voice sounded almost gentle next to him and made Darling look up in surprise. He raised one eyebrow at the guy, who – once more – stood next to him and smiled that all-knowing smile. Damn it. Was he observing him?

"You look at it all the time," Roger continued and followed Darling's gaze outside. "Whenever I've seen you, you're staring outside a window. Or looking up to the sky for that matter. I just concluded you must like it a lot."

Darling didn't answer for a few seconds but stared at him. The he took a deep breath and almost automatically his hand wandered up to hold his injured shoulder once more.

"I...," he hesitated. What was he supposed to say? Everything would have sounded unbelievable. "I kind of like it alright," he answered then silently. And immediately he knew Roger was turning to him again. "It kind of is freedom... and hell... all in one."

Why did he say that? He couldn't explain himself, but there was no way to take it back now.

"So, what's your favorite spot then?"

Roger's voice sounded softly and when Darling lifted his head in surprise, he found him smiling gently. How strange. What was this about? What was this guy planning? And more importantly was it safe to answer?

"Ugh... I-I can't really tell," Darling replied silently.

"Means there are too many?" Roger almost sounded like an echo, but this time it was a warm sound.

Darling blushed. Again. Damn it. He narrowed his eyes and tried to fixate a small spot on a vase next to him. Until he heard the tall man chuckling slightly.

"Alright, I am sorry," Roger said after a while. "I guess that was one too many questions for the beginning. Don't worry. You don't have to say anything."

"It means," Darling closed his eyes as though he hoped it would make the situation less odd. "It means I don't know. I've never spent too much time in the city."

"But...," He could feel Roger inhaling his own words and swallowing them. But probably only to prevent himself from asking again. "You...you were..:"

"I know," And finally Darling turned to face the tall man again. "I haven't been living in the streets. But even though I was born in New York I hardly ever left the house... Until..." He squinted his eyes as though trying to sake away something his own words reminded him of. "It doesn't matter anyway. I'm bound to see it now. Sooner or later."

Roger didn't reply anything for a very long time. And Darling seriously started to wonder why he said what he'd said. He had been so sure not to mention anything from his past, especially not to this man. But it just happened. And now there was no turning back. And a lot more was bound to happen. Questions. Comments. Accusations even if he really came closer to him after that. And the silence was uncomfortable. Scary even.

But then, without a warning really, he felt Roger's hand grabbing his wrist gently and pulling him towards the stairs and then down in the huge marble hallway. Roger let go of him again when they reached the end of the stairs.

"Wait a second," He smiled at Darling and then left him baffled only to run up again and vanish inside Darling's room.

Darling on the other hand remained petrified and only looked after him with wide eyes. Whatever this was about he couldn't tell, but it sure surprised him a lot. Was this a trick? Or a new outburst?

He wasn't really able to sort his thoughts when Roger appeared next to him again. He looked different. Almost happy in a way and he wore a long elegant black coat.

"Here," he said and gently bend towards the younger man, who still wasn't able to move but simply stared at him questioning. With one elegant move he swung a smaller black coat over Darling's shoulders. Darling felt the noble looking cloth like a warm wave that came over him and turned his head to look at it for a second and then back to Roger. He raised one eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

"Come on," Roger grinned as he opened the glass front door and waited for Darling to move.

"What?" he asked hesitantly and stepped back a little without really noticing it.

"If you've never seen it I'll show you," Roger answered, still smiling. "Born in New York and never seen the city? No, it's about time!"

He wasn't sure at first if he'd heard correctly. And Darling knew his eyes widened in an unbelieving stare but still he let Roger reach for his arm again and without really being able to do anything he let that man lead him outside.

…...

It felt like another world. Darling had never been in Central Park before. He'd heard of it of course. But he'd never managed to escape this far into New York.

This place was fascinating. A huge oasis in the middle of a noisy and rough city. A total contrast between the huge buildings and narrow streets and the millions of people just following their ways. It was green in here. And silent. Amazingly silent. A fact that fascinated the young man more than anything. If he didn't know better he almost forgot he was still in the midst of a vibrant metropolis.

And he looked around a lot. There were fountains and statues, little pavilions, sometimes small buildings and colorful brick-stone roads. Sometimes the roads became mere trails but still the plants and seemingly ancient streetlamps made even them appear to be streets leading into some kind of magical world. Completely different from everything he'd known so far. And from time to time the huge boulders seemed like old castle walls or enormous sleeping giants, peacefully watching over the old city whose buildings were still to be seen everywhere in the distance like lookout towers.

Darling didn't really know how to cope with the feelings arising in him but he knew he'd never seen a place this magical. It was like walking in a dream.

He would turn his head around each time a bunch of children ran past him, playing tag. And sometimes he would simply stop to breathe in the delicate notes of yet another violinist, playing his heart out in some corner of the crooked lanes.

"I can't believe you've never been here before."

Darling opened his eyes again when he heard the voice of Roger in a distance. He was still there. Funny, he'd completely forgotten about him. But now that reality set back in he remembered that it had been him who brought him here. He must have walked silently next to him the whole time. And yes, it was true. After they'd walked through the city the whole morning Roger had decided to come here to get some piece. They hadn't talked much after leaving the house but after they'd set foot in Central Park, Darling couldn't recall one word having been exchanged between the two of them.

"You enjoy it, right?" Roger smiled now that he was sure Darling's attention was back.

"It's amazing," The young man had to admit and for the first time Roger spotted a delightful sparkle in his eyes as he observed the world around him like a child.

"I used to come here very often when life got too busy," Roger added, looking straight ahead again. "I loved the silence. Good for clearing one's mind."

"So why did you bring me here?" Darling asked silently and stared at his feet.

"What do you mean?" Roger stopped suddenly.

"You didn't have to do this," Darling answered. "And silence is something you can find in your house as well."

Roger just stared back at him for a while. His smile had vanished. And it was hard for Darling to tell what he was thinking. Whether he was angry or offended or simply felt caught, he couldn't tell. Yet he didn't dare to move. He held Roger's gaze, waiting patiently for any reaction.

This just couldn't be all. He'd been thinking about it a lot since they've left that darn house and the only conclusion he came to was either this guy was trying to mock him or would have planned something. Maybe he wanted to get rid of him after all. Not that this was a problem to Darling but he felt all this playing around it was a bit too much, especially since he'd witnessed how choleric Roger could be. Why would he turn his personality around just like that? There had to be a reason.

"I told you what this is about...," Roger answered after an eternity. But oddly enough it was not more than a whisper. "I thought it would make you happy. And maybe helps to kill that suspicion you still carry against me in your head."

Darling's face changed that very moment. He glared at that guy in a sinister way all of a sudden. And then he made a small movement just as if he wanted to step back. Maybe he'd run. Roger couldn't define what was going on in him but somehow his words seemed to arouse something inside of the young man. Something rather serious.

Darling set one foot behind his other and really seemed to seek a distance to him right now. Unfortunately, he didn't get far as one of the kids who ran around them the whole time crashed into him and fell over in a dull thumb, landing in the sand of the road.

Darling whirled around in shock. The child wasn't less surprised to say the least. The boy looked up at him with wide eyes and only seconds later started to cry frantically. Roger couldn't even grasp it right away when Darling was already on his knees besides the boy and patted his back gently.

"Oh, Sweetie. I am so sorry. Did you hurt yourself?" He asked in a soft, high voice Roger had never heard on him until now.

The child opened his eyes and sobbed once or twice while looking Darling directly in the face. For a moment it seemed he was torn between accusing the man in front of him or trusting his kind voice. But the decision followed promptly.

"I hurt my knee," he answered under his tears and rubbed his eyes.

"Oh no, let me see," Darling bent forward and used the hand he was able to move to softly stroke over the boy's knee twice.

"Ouch. Careful," the boy moaned. "It hurts."

Darling smirked slightly and looked up to the boy in front of him. And for the first time his gaze changed. He cast a meek, soothing look and lifted the corners of his mouth into a smile. And this, Roger was sure for once, was an earnest smile. He had to grin witnessing it. So this was what he looked like when he forgot about all his fears and suspicions. This was a hint of Darling the way he really was. And funny enough, he looked so different all of a sudden. Roger couldn't even tell why. All he knew was he felt a strange wave of affection coming over him that moment. And for once, he wished someone would look at him like that only once in his life.

And just when that thought reached his awareness he quickly shook his head.

What was that?

"Aw, nothing happened," Darling replied to the boy. "See?"

The Boy didn't believe him. He stared at his own knee but the huge crocodile tears still rolled down his cheeks and he still breathed heavily. So, Darling covered the small scratch which looked more like a red mark on the knee of the child with his hand.

"Do you believe I can conjure it away?" Darling asked a little mysterious and raised one eyebrow but never losing his smile.

"No way," The boy's eyes widened. "There's no such thing."

"I beg you pardon?" Darling raised his voice to a very high-pitched version of himself and pouted. "If you don't believe me I shall turn and leave. And leave that scar there forever."

"No! No! Please, Sir," the Boy sat upright in less than a second and pulled Darling's sleeve energetically. All the tears from a minute ago were forgotten in an instance. It only caused the young man to snicker under his breath. Something Roger found profoundly fascinating. More than anything ever before. "I didn't want to offend you. Please, show me. I didn't mean it."

"You swear?"

"I swear," the boy whispered in excitement. "Please."

"Pinky swear?" Darling held up his finger and grinned at the boy, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Pinky swear!" Their fingers crossed.

"Alright, but you must never tell," Darling grinned and cupped the knee of the boy again with his hand. The child tried to look through it. To see what he was doing. From the left first; then from the right. But he wasn't really able to spot anything. A fact which encouraged his amazement even more. Darling moved a little closer and pulled a small piece of cloth out from under his coat. He blew on the boy's knee three short times and in an amazing speed tied the white fabric around it. He finished it with a loose knot. It all went so quick, Roger had to admit he was quite impressed; especially since Darling could only really use one arm freely.

And when he was finished he leaned back slightly and presented his work in a huge gesture.

"There you go!" He said cheerfully.

The boy on the other hand seemed disappointed.

"This ain't no magic," he said and squinted his eyes. "It's just a bandage."

"Why, of course this is magic," Darling acted offended once more, crossing his arms. "This, young man, is not a normal bandage. I got this from an old witch and she promised me everything this fabric touches will heal within no time. But it will only work if people believe in its power. So, tell me. Did I choose the right one? Do you believe?"

"Is that true?" the boy asked again and his eyes widened.

"I'd never lie to you," Darling raised one hand and moved the other one over his chest to let it rest on his heart. "I swear to the old enchantress's life, it's true. And believe me, she'll hear for she's still alive."

"Did she do this to your arm?" He pointed at the sling around Darling's neck. "Did you have to fight her to get this cloth?"

"Oh this?" Darling stared at his own injured arm for a second and then held up his finger to his mouth as if it was a secret no one but them should know about. "Pirates did this!"

"Pirates?"

"Yes," Darling nodded and moved a little closer, now almost whispering to the boy. "The witch was their prisoner."

"Why?"

"She had the idea of changing the way they were; of changing the world," he explained. "The way they thought. And she believed there was no need in steeling from people; leaving them with nothing but destruction and even murdering them."

"She was a good witch then?" The boy hung on the lips of Darling, who nodded.

"She thought she was," he answered. "But apparently the pirates didn't seem to think so. They captured her and carried her far away from her land. They were determined to change her point of view for to them, every form of cruelty, discrimination and unfairness was a noble profession. Something decent, if you like. Only real men were able to act like it. A picture like the witch had in mind didn't fit in their world. They feared that female aspect would make them turn weak."

"Did they try to kill her?"

"They did indeed," Darling answered now a little more sincere. "With everything they had. They've beaten her and threatened her. They took away everything she loved. And you must know the pirates were way too many for the witch. After they'd tortured her, she had been certain they'd won. There was no way for her to carry on."

"How did she get away?"

"She used a trick," Darling explained. "Disguising as someone else was her way to escape. Or so she thought."

"How did you manage to get your arm mangled then?" The boy asked.

"I met her when she was imprisoned in the pirate's cave. I worked there as a cabin boy because a pirate's life seemed decent to me that time too. But after talking to her for a while I started to see things a little differently. So, I agreed to help her. She could only escape in the shape of someone else," Darling smiled again. "And I offered her my body as a transport. Unfortunately, the pirates saw through it and attacked me."

"But you did get out?" The boy asked in awe.

Darling started to chuckle, leaning back a bit. "Well, I am here, am I not?"

"And did she leave then to live in peace?"

"She did, but she's hiding now," Darling put one hand on the shoulder of the boy. "And she gave me this cloth to say thank you. It is a piece of her magical coat. And she told me what I just told you. If people really believe in her this cloth will do them nothing but good. So, I am asking you. Does it still hurt?"

"No! Not at all, Sir," The boy smiled brightly. "It's already gone. And I bet there's already no wound to see at all."

"That's what I meant," Darling smiled at him. "So, you can keep it if you like. But never forget that nothing can hurt you. Every pain is bound to vanish. The witch will always try to do some good as long as you remember her name somewhere deep inside."

The boy nodded quickly and arose from the ground.

"I will remember," he said. "Thank you, Sir."

"You're most welcome," Darling answered softly and watched the boy getting ready to leave him.

"What was her name?" the boy turned halfway around again only to look at Darling one last time.

Darling bend his head back, closed his eyes and smiled widely. He turned his head towards a street nearby and seemed to fixate his gaze on the cars passing them in a loud roar. He took a deep breath and inhaled deeply. A releasing sparkle suddenly appeared in his eyes and his face transformed into a mischievous grin somehow.

Roger followed his gaze. But all he could see was a new looking car standing there close to them and waiting to continue its ride. It's motor almost sounded like thunder when it started again and it took only seconds to be just a little spot in that ocean of vehicles around them.

"Her name," Darling said after it left. "Was Carmen... Carmen the good."

That seemed to satisfy the boy. He nodded once more and then turned to run over the huge meadow towards his friends. The wind carried their laughter over to Roger and Darling who still remained where they were, looking after them.

Darling still knelt on the ground motionless. He looked at the children playing there in the distance and suddenly felt a funny wave of grief coming over him. Even if his life depended on it he wasn't able to tell why exactly.

A hand reached for him and made him twitch for a second. Lifting his head again he looked up at Roger, whose eyes brightly smiled and held his hand stretched out to him. And now, Darling didn't wait for a question. As peculiar as this was, they needed no questions right now. Or words for that matter.

He lifted his arm and took Rogers warm hand. The older man gently pulled him up to his feet again. One last look after that boy and he turned to pull the coat over the oversized white shirt he was wearing.

"It was a handkerchief," he said then, almost not audible. "I've found it in your coat. I hope you don't mind. I will replace it otherwise."

But Roger shook his head without losing his smile.

"I think I can spare it," he answered silently. "Something as valuable as a piece of a witch's coat was never meant to remain hidden in the dark pockets of a coat."

He winked at Darling, who blushed immediately and tuned his eyes away from him. Roger's words embarrassed him somehow.

"You like children, don't you?" Roger asked again, turning to look at the playing little ones in the distance.

"I always loved them," Darling replied without hesitation. Then he took a deep breath. "It's the only thing that makes me sad each time I think about it. I will never be able to have some of my own."

He didn't think about it that moment. He didn't plan it. But that moment Roger felt the urge to lay his arm around Darling's shoulders. And much to his surprise the young man didn't seem to mind for once. He jeered slightly and without a word both of them slowly carried on their walk.

They didn't speak for quite a while. They just kept on moving.

Darling felt no need to speak. His mind still wandered. Back to that boy. Back to that story. Back to everything that had happened. And when he realized how the wicked shadow of sadness came over him again, for once, he was secretly happy not to be alone right now. Even if this was Roger. Even if this whole being with him was forced. He felt glad. And it confused him deeply.

Hesitantly he looked up to him from the corners of his eyes.

The tall guy just looked ahead. He didn't say anything and he didn't seek his eyes. Still, he had his arm around him and, yes Darling had to call it that, made sure he was secure in his own insecurity that moment. This was new.

"You know," he heard Roger speak after what seemed like an eternity. "That story was pretty interesting. I can't get it out of my head."

Darling raised his brows slightly and crinkled his mouth a little, trying hard to avoid yet another smile.

"A stupid little story made up to calm down a child," he answered then. "Nothing special."

And suddenly Roger stopped again.

"Oh no," he replied determinedly. "No, I think it's a lot more."

Darling stopped now too. Because he'd kept on walking a few steps he turned to look at the other man again. He'd let go of him. How strange. All of a sudden all that suspicion came crawling back to him. He felt it immediately.

"More?"

Roger nodded. "I think every story has a little bit of truth in it. And the way you told it didn't seem made up. At least not to me."

Darling touched his shoulder in an instance just as though hearing these words reminded him of his own pain again. Then he shook his head and stared back to the ground.

"Not this time."

"Can it be," Roger came closer once more. He was careful, but still he did. Darling felt his presence like an uncomfortable tingle that kind of alarmed his body and literally screamed _'Pay Attention!'_.

"Could it be some part of this wasn't made up?"

Darling's eyes widened. His head shot up again and instinctively he backed away.

"A...A story of witches and pirates?" he asked. It was then Roger knew he was on the right path. Darling had never shown such insecurity in his voice before. At least not to him. He usually acted tough and stubborn. "Has someone hit you on the head somewhere in your past? There's no such thing as magic..."

"This wasn't what I meant," Roger insisted and still moved closer. "And you know it."

Darling started to panic. He felt it in himself. That man was intimidating. Right now more than ever. And even though he sounded calm and nigh caring, there was something extremely alarming about him.

Darling ducked away and almost jumped a few inches away from him. This felt like an attack, even though Roger stopped immediately and didn't move anymore.

"Knowing what?" Darling asked and now clearly noticed how scared he sounded all of a sudden. This was something new, even to him. Or maybe just the plain awareness was.

"Can I ask you something?" Roger stood completely motionless and for a second Darling hated that pitiful look he cast at him more than anything. He needed no pity. And definittely not from him. Yet, at the same time he was astounded about the answer that popped out of his mouth without him really controlling it.

"Ask!"

Mentally, he knew what was going to come. Deep down inside he was prepared for what was about to follow. The questions he dreaded. About his past. About his life before he picked him up in the streets. About his wounds. Everything Darling tried so hard not to think about.

"Why is it that you play that part?" Roger asked.

Darling's eyes widened. His head shot up at the man in front of him and he felt shocked. Shocked by that unexpected question. Shocked by the fact Roger knew. He knew perfectly well he was putting on a mask.

"You're not at all like that. You try not to show it but it shines through every time you feel safe," Roger answered sincerely. "But then there's that huge fear inside of you. About everything. The world. People. Words. And I think most of all your own thoughts. And I'd really like to understand the reason."

Darling's breath fastened. He wanted to run. Scream. Kick around and wave his arms. But he stood completely petrified. Was this what people saw? Oh, forget people... This guy. Why was it he saw through him every single time, just as though he was an open book with his story being written in bright red letters. Only Roger wasn't able to tell which language it was. For a second the tiny thought of telling Roger what he wanted to know literally screamed at him. He could almost hear his own voice telling what had happened, until the images of that night flickered in front of his eyes like a lightning bolt. That crowd, that gun. Daniel...

And suddenly Darling felt that huge anxiety crawling up from somewhere deep inside of him again. It almost turned him numb and he felt dizzy. He grabbed his hair as though pulling it would make him forget and squinted his eyes up to the point of hurting them. Then, he shook his head and felt that fear exploding into an unexpected anger.

"IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" he screamed and beamed at Roger again so quickly, the tall man almost jumped back in surprise. "NOTHING HAPPENED, OKAY?! I AM WHAT YOU SEE. I ACT AS I AM! SO, STOP STICKING YOUR GOD-DAMN NOSE INTO THINGS THAT DON'T CONCERN YOU!"

"What?" Roger's face changed. "Relax, will you?"

"DO IT YOURSELF!" Darling raged. "You can't even sort out your own life. You're bossing people around. You must have it your way or otherwise you'll terrorize everyone around you. All you think about is your perfect, pathetic life and what guy you can shag the next night! So stop acting as though you're concerned about me! I cost you a fortune. I know that..."

"I JUST WANT YOU TO FEEL BETTER," Roger yelled back, having swallowed the accusations until now. "DON'T YOU DARE ACCUSING ME OF BEING SELFISH WHEN I AM LOOKING AFTER YOU. YOU SHOULD FACE THE FACT. YOU HAVE NO ONE ELSE!... Oh, don't give me that face! I know! Everybody knows. It's not that big a deal to figure out!"

"I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR REASON TO SATISFY YOUR VANITY!" Darling didn't notice the tears in his eyes. Or his shaking hand. Or the way he clung to his wounded arm again as though he wanted to prevent it from any more harm. "I AM NOT A PET! I am not the thing you've found in the streets and keep just to show off how great you are!"

Roger took a deep breath, but suddenly his face changed again. He let his arms fall and his head sink slowly but never broke that eye contact with Darling.

"Your way of living may suit you alright," Darling still screamed. He couldn't stop and his anger grew to a new dimension as Roger approached him again slowly. "But don't expect me to live up to your expectations. I cannot do this. All I want is to leave you! You and your sick house!"

"Is that all?" Roger said with a firm strong voice, opening his arms wide. "Come on, now's your chance! Spill your guts!"

"You're arrogant and spoiled," Darling continued while trying to fight back the tears that blurred his sight more and more. "You have all of them under control and they're stupid for believing your doing it for them! Truth is your the most egoistic, manic, choleric person ever just to hide you're god-damn lonely! And why?"

"Why?" Roger was so frighteningly close now, Darling felt the warmth of his body like a wall. Instinctively he lifted both his arms to prevent him from coming closer, even though he could hardly see him anymore. He even turned his head away and closed his eyes quickly. A stinging pain shot through his shoulder the moment he moved it. But Darling didn't mind. He wanted to turn and run but somehow he couldn't. He was stuck there. As much as he hated it his body didn't obey him anymore.

"Because there's no one worth giving that up in your life," Darling's voice cracked as he spoke those words. "Because no one gives a damn about you. Because you are alone, no matter how many people you gather in your house!"

He felt Roger's hands around his wrists. It was a soft grip but still he wasn't able to move his arms anymore. Darling tried to bend away from him but only seconds later collapsed on Roger's chest, feeling his arms gently moving to his back and pressing him to his body. He tried to fight it but his body felt weak and his head dull. And at the same time he felt Roger's breath on his hair; his warm arms around him. Darling was able to hear his heartbeat having his own head leaned on his chest and he smelled him all round him.

"Keep going," Roger said very calmly as he softly started to stroke the younger man's back.

Darling felt the strength in his arms vanish and he adhered to Roger's shirt as though it was the only thing that kept him from falling. He'd lost now. He could feel it. His tears fell uncontrollably down his face and his whole body shook under his sobs.

"You just don't know," Darling was certain, if his voice wasn't already gone, he'd be screaming now. But instead, only a weird squeak- like whispering was what he'd once called his voice. "You have no idea how life really is! You could be so much more! You have every condition to be happy! To have people really like you! I don't! … Oh God... God knows I don't! Not anymore! "

Roger rested his head on Darling's head and his hug tightened. At the same time Darling almost flung his arms around his, pressing his body closer to him. He pressed his face closer to Roger's chest and didn't care at all about his tears soaking his shirt right now.

"People leave," he cried. "And they take everything away. No one can cling to a life the way it should be for it won't work out. It never will. Everything is just a maze of moments. But no one stays! There's always someone to ruin it!"

"And you think I'm ruining it for you?" Roger whispered back softly.

"No," Darling didn't think anymore. The pain he felt was too much. "You're the first person who's shown some kindness towards me without expecting something in return... And that confuses me, okay? All the time I keep asking myself what it really is that you want... I am alone, okay? I know that. And now I know you know too. There's just no one and all the time I feel like screaming as loud as I am able to but no one is able to hear me. And suddenly you come along and you seem to know more of me than I ever dared to think about... It just doesn't feel right. And yet, it does."

Roger didn't reply promptly but waited patiently until Darling calmed down. At least he hoped the younger man did for his breaths became more even and his body stopped shaking after a while.

"You've never met anyone kind to you?" Roger asked then.

"Once," Darling opened his hurting eyes slowly as he got calmer. Why he didn't know. "But he left..."

There was a long pause on Roger's side. Darling just lay in his arms slowly breathing in and out. What was this feeling? Warm and safe. He sensed nothing in this great, dangerous world could hurt him. Not while the arms of that stranger covered him like a blanket.

"He left you?" Roger asked after an eternity.

Darling nodded slightly.

"He died...," Darling's whisper was so silent he couldn't really imagine someone heard it. But immediately Roger tightened his grip even more. He pressed his cheek to Darlings, who let his arms fall and hung there loosely, not really being able to sort out the million things he felt and yet not felt right now. Why did he get the feeling of not belonging anywhere else but right here that very moment?

But then, Roger suddenly let go of him, only holding that connection by still touching Darling's shoulders. He reached out and softly made the young man lift his head and look at him by tilting his chin gently.

"Listen," Roger stared him directly in the eyes, carefully wiping away his tears with his thumb. "Whatever happened... It wasn't your fault!"

"Yes, it was," Darling still cried. "All of it. I am no good person to be around. So, the sooner you'll get rid of me the better..."

Roger chuckled silently. "You see? Take that statement alone. No bad person would put my well-being before his own."

Darling held his breath and for the first time, really listened.

"Not for someone as selfish and spoiled as me," Roger smiled warmly and winked at him once. Darling's face blushed again. "But I can assure you, I am not expecting a thing of you. Never have, never will! All I care about is you getting better. And after that I am willing to help you find a place to stay if you let me. You're no prisoner to my house as is no one else."

Darling wanted to ask the question in his mind, but Roger seemed to read even that one.

"They all had troubles being who they are," Roger continued calmly. "Shirley was kicked out of her home. Brian couldn't afford his apartment after he lost his job when they found out. Kevin was left by his wife and children after he discovered he didn't love her the way he was supposed to and wanted to end his life rather than living alone in shame."

Darling watched him with huge eyes. If this was true, it cast a whole different light on everything. It meant what Scott had told him was indeed true. And they weren't at all his faithful housemaids he kept there after having had enough fun with them.

"What about Scott?" Darling asked then weakly.

"Scott," Roger lowered his head slightly and laughed silently. "Well, I'm afraid Scott is the one exception."

"How so?"

"He and I... We used to be more than friends," Roger replied, looking up at him again. Darling felt his heart sink. Just as though someone had punched him in the stomach that very second. "But it didn't really work out. So we agreed on not continuing it. Not pretending there weren't any barricades."

"So, you're keeping him there to remind you of that?" Darling asked hesitantly, but Roger immediately shook his head.

"He told me his heart would break if I ever send him away," Roger said. "Even if this being together wasn't meant for us, he told me he needed to feel I am alright. I've actually never asked him why he felt this was a necessity," Roger laughed thinking about it. "But I couldn't be so heartless and kick him out. I just couldn't. So, he stayed. And after a few years we got so used to it, there was no way to imagine it had ever been differently. And I took them in. They are all amazingly talented people. I offered them jobs and after a while we've managed to create a team that always works together."

And for the first time since that man first spoke to him that day in the streets, Darling understood everything he'd just told him. For the first time ever a stranger made sense to him. And for the first time ever he believed every word Roger said. He nodded. Mainly because he wanted to give him a clue what had just happened inside of him. And to his great relief, Roger's smile widened. The tall man straightened up and stretched out his arms widely.

At first, Darling didn't understand what this was about, but then Roger spoke again.

"I know it's hard to trust me," he said. "You've only known a glimpse of me for a couple of weeks and I haven't done much to earn your trust, I admit. But if you think your anger will vanish a little if you felt I mean it, I want to ask you a favor."

Darling held his shoulder again as he motionless watched that guy.

"Hit me," Roger said.

"What?" Darling stepped back a little and looked around a little uncertain.

"You heard me," Roger still smiled. "I won't attack you. I won't scream. And I certainly won't take revenge of any kind."

"I-I can't...just," Darling stuttered, but Roger was quicker.

"Come on, now," his voice grew louder again. "It's what you wanted to do since I've found you, isn't it? Well, now you can. Come on! Do it!"

"I won't!" Darling said and looked away, but didn't move.

"Why so scared all of a sudden?" Roger yelled now. "Remember what kind of person I am! Selfish! Rich and spoiled! Every night screwing another guy just out of fun!"

"Stop it!"

"Well, it's true! Maybe this is part of my scheme! Part of my rotten personality!"

"STOP IT!"

"You could be next, you know?" Roger screamed at him. "You and your little pathetic self-doubt! I could get you any time! After all I know what to tell people to make them do what I want!"

"I SAID STOP!"

Darling lifted his hand and only a heartbeat later his fist hit Roger heavily in his face. The older man fell to the ground and the sound of that strike seemingly echoed through the air, above the meadows and through Darling's whole being. He didn't even notice what had happened until he felt his fist starting to ache like hell. His eyes widened even more and he immediately clutched his hand in front of his mouth, not being able to take his gaze away from Roger on the ground. What had he done? Why did he do it?

Roger twitched. And then he slowly got up again by carefully bracing his arm on his knee and setting one leg after te other until he stood upright again. And then, incredibly calm, he started to tap off the dirt from his clothes.

"Here we go," His voice was calm again and Darling could swear he heard a grin in it. "Now, that wasn't so hard to do, was it?"

When Roger turned to him again, Darling almost bit his lips. If he could have seen his own face right now, he was certain it would look drained from every last drip of blood.

Roger's wavy hair hung in loose strains above his eyes. He shook his head to the side graciously and made them fly back in a soft whiff. On his left cheek a big bruise was to be seen and the skin was slightly burst open. Little strings of blood slowly began to down his face.

"Oh my God," Darling whispered in shock. "I am sorry... I...I..."

"It's alright," Roger shook his head at him and smiled even wider. Then he carefully stepped closer to Darling again, always alerted not to scare him away through sudden movements or anything like that. "I think we're pretty even now."

Darling felt himself nodding, even though he was still too shocked to properly control his movements.

"That was probably what both of us needed," Roger grinned.

"Why both of us?" Darling asked.

"Sometimes desperate measures are required to get your feet back on the ground," he shrugged. "Do you think we could stop fighting each other now and try a different path?"

"What do you suggest?" Darling asked and was surprised himself how his defense fell.

"Being suspicious and angry clearly didn't work," Roger smiled. "We could try to get along for once. Maybe we'd find something new on both sides."

Darling listened to him. And he listened carefully. He did mean it. He couldn't say why but Roger meant every word. He wasn't angry. Not for the many dreadful things Darling had shot at him, nor about that physical attack just moments ago.

Could it be, he'd judged him wrong the whole time?

"Promise me," Darling began silently and knew in an instance Roger was listening. "Promise me, you won't ask any questions. Can you do that? Because if you can..."

Roger straightened up again.

"I am sure I could find a way to try too," Darling said and much to his surprise lifted his mouth into a soft smile as well.

Roger nodded immediately. He came closer and flung his arm over Darling's shoulders.

"Let's go home," Roger answered.

….

When Roger opened the front door of the huge Town-house, his roommates literally fluttered towards him like a bunch of scared up chickens.

"Roger, thank God you're back!" Kevin hyperventilated. "We've been wondering where you went."

Roger didn't answer right away, but carefully kept on opening the door, pushing Scott aside to make a little room.

"There's something you should know," Brian continued without taking a breath.

"And what's that?" Roger's attention was at the door still.

"Darling," Scott spoke now too.

"What about him?"

"Roger," Shirley stepped forward. "Darling's gone."

"We...We couldn't do a thing," Brian immediately caught up with her. "He was already when we arrived here. We're so sorry, Rog!"

"What's happened to your face?" Scott asked, spotting the wound on his cheek.

"Oh God, Roger," Kevin noticed now too. "Is everything alright? What happened?"

Roger didn't reply anything but stepped aside making way in the entrance. Darling lingered behind him and as soon as Roger stepped aside, all of their eyes were on the young man again. They were speechless. None of them moved and none of them dared to say a word.

"Don't you worry," Roger laughed heartily, seeing their faces. "He was with me. Everything's alright."

He lifted his arm to show Darling the way up the stairs. The young man smiled at him honestly and without a word climbed up the way to his room. Roger closed te front door and followed him with his gaze, smiling softly. It was then he noticed his four friends still staring at him, not believing what they just witnessed.

"Will you excuse me?" Roger bowed a little in a very theatrical manner and then followed Darling up the stairs.

The four of them didn't move a bit but looked after them in an unbelieving shock-induced paralysis.

Roger accompanied Darling to his door. They didn't speak at all until the young man stopped and Roger leaned forward to open it for him. Darling smiled again. And oh, Roger only really realized now how much he loved seeing him smile. How beautiful a smile could be. This was new. Somehow...

"So, goodnight," Darling said in a soft smooth voice, Roger hadn't heard on him before.

"Goodnight," he replied gently and stroked over the young man's cheek once. "Try to sleep."

Darling nodded and then turned to step inside.

"I know I promised, but...," He heard Roger's voice again. Darling's mind told him not to but still he did. "Allow me one question before stopping forever."

Darling had to grin and then nodded.

"What's your name?" Roger asked but never once turned his soft eyes away.

Darling sighed. Of course... The obvious one. He closed his eyes only once for a short moment, but resisted that urge to flee again. He'd agreed not to. And maybe giving that man a chance was indeed what could change this tensed staying here. A little at least. So, Darling decided to be honest with him for once.

"I... I can't tell you," he replied slowly. "It's not that I don't know. But answering that question would lead to a lot more. Believe me. A whole lot more."

"I understand," Roger interrupted him.

"You do?"

"Yes," Roger nodded and once more stroked over Darling's head softly. "You don't have to. But thank you for being honest."

Then, he turned and walked down the stairs again. Darling couldn't help but watch after him until he couldn't see him anymore.

 _~To be continued~_


End file.
